A.    Handbook 

of 

C.   .    j 
riticism 


AN  ANALYSIS  OF  LITERARY   FORMS  IN  PROSE 

AND  VERSE     . 


FOR  ENGLISH  STUDENTS 

IN  ADVANCED  SCHOOLS  AND  COLLEGES 

AND  FOR  LIBRARIES  AND  THE 

GENERAL  READER 


BY 

William  Henry   Sheran 


HINDS,  NOBLE  &  ELDREDGE,  Publishers 
-3J-33-35  West  isth  Street,  New  York  City 


Copyright,  1905, 
By  HINDS,  NOBLE  &  ELDREDGE 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 

THE    LATE 

PROFESSOR  FREDERICK  MAX  MULLER 

With  whom  the  Author  spent  many  delightful  days 

as  a  pupil  in  the 

* 

UNIVERSITY  OF  OXFORD 


111 


202824 


PREFACE 

The  purpose  of  the  writer  is  to  supply  teachers  and  students 
of  literature  with  a  suitable  manual  of  literary  criticism.  As 
Sidney  Lanier  pointedly  remarked,  there  is  no  book  extant  in 
any  language  which  gives  an  analytical  and  comprehensive 
survey  of  all  the  well-marked,  widely  varying,  literary  forms 
which  have  differentiated  themselves  in  the  course  of  time  — 
the  letter,  the  essay,  the  oration,  history,  fiction,  biography, 
the  lyric,  the  drama,  the  epic.  I  have  attempted  to  furnish 
such  a  survey  as  the  vast  range  of  subjects  and  the  limitations 
of  a  handbook  allow.  The  student  thus  enjoys  the  advantage 
of  viewing  critically  the  whole  field  of  letters  —  an  advantage 
which  no  other  manual  offers. 

As  a  preliminary  study,  this  handbook  treats  literature  from 
the  vTewpomt  ot  a  fine  art. — frrtorrrmon  with  all  the  fine  an 


literature  ha\s  its  own' province,  its  own  form  and  content. 
And  the  art-form  and  art-content  of  literature  should  be  ascer- 
tained before  the  student  makes  any  detailed  study  of  the  vari- 
ous departments  in  which  literary  art  finds  expression.  The 
introductorjLj:hapters  of  this  manual  are  devoted  to  such  an 
analysis. 

A  special  claim  in  favor  of  this  handbook  is  conciseness  as 
well  as  comprehensiveness.  While  dealing  in  a  practical  way 
with  all  the  departments  of  literature,  I  have  endeavored  to 
give  the  briefest  possible  compendium  >ef  the  best  criticism. 
The  "  first  principles  "  of  literary  art  are  tersely  set  forth  alid 
their  application  to  the  various  prose-forms  and  verse-forms  is' 
equally  terse.  In  thus  economizing  the  student's  time  and 
attention,  I  have  abbreviated  the  history  of  literary  forms  and 


vi  PREFACE 

neglected  to  estimate  their  more  minute  differentiations  — • 
work  which,  after  all,  can  only  be  suggested  within  the  limits 
of  a  manual  covering  such  a  large  field.  In  drawing  upon 
the  various  sources  of  literary  criticism,  I  have  adopted  the 
same  method  of  condensation ;  often  compressing  into  a  single 
paragraph  the  ideas  of  a  critic,  which  have  been  elaborated 
through  several  pages.  The  condensed  account  often  takes 
the  place  of,  and  is  preferable  to,  the  verbatim  quotation. 

In  making  selections  from  German  and  French  sources  for 
this  volume,  I  have  availed  myself  of  the  criticism  of  Professor 
Francis  J.  Schaefer,  Ph.  D.,  who  has  personally  supervised 
much  of  the  work.  The  thanks  of  the  author  are  also  due  to 
the  late  Prof.  Max  Muller,  of  Oxford,  who  suggested  the  plan 
of  this  handbook,  and  made  some  valuable  suggestions  as  to  the 
selection  of  the  subject-matter. 

A  full  list  of  the  writers,  ancient  and  modern,  to  whom  this 
handbook  is  in  any  way  indebted,  will  be  found  at  the  close  of 
the  volume.  References  are  also  made  in  the  text,  and  those 
which  usually  occupy  the  place  of  foot-notes  are  incorporated 
in  the  work  itself,  as  I  believe  such  an  arrangement  is  more 
satisfactory  to  the  student. 

If  this  handbook  shall  prove  helpful  to  teachers  and  stu- 
dents, the  object  for  which  it  was  written  will  be  attained. 

WILLIAM  HENRY  SHERAN. 

Saint  Paul,   Minnesota, 

June  4,    1905. 


CONTENTS 
PART  I 
INTRODUCTION 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.     Literature  as  a  Fine  Art* .1 

II.     Art-Form    in    Literature 7 

III.  The  Word 15 

IV.  The   Sentence 24 

V.  The    Paragraph      .     ,     ,     j     ,     .     .     .     .     .     .    .;•     .  33 

VI.  The  Complete  Composition*"".    7 — ?—- a~- *~  .     .     .  _\  40 

VII.     Art-Content  in  Literature :     Sublimity 52 

VIII.     Beauty.    .     ..    .,.-..     ... j.    .J_  .  81 

IX.     Feeling - 69 

X.     Wit  and  Humor 75 

XL  Melody    .     .     .     .,-,........     .-.,..     .     .     .     .  80 

XII.     Personality  in  Literary  Art 84 


XIII.     Personality  in  Literary  Art  (continued) 


93 


PART    II 
ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIV.  The  Letter  ........     ......  108 

XV.  The  Letter  (continued)      .....     .....  113 

XVI.  The  Letter  (continued)      ..........  118 

XVII.  The  Letter    (continued)      ..........  121 

XVIII.  The  Letter  (continued)      ..........  128 

XIX.  The  Letter  (continued)       ..........  137 

XX.  The  Letter  (concluded)       ..........  142 

XXI.  The  Essay  4     ..............  150 

XXII.  The  Essay  (continued)       ..........  153 

XXIII.  The  Essay  (continued)       ........     .     .  160 

XXIV. 


The    Essay    (continued) 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXV.    The    Essay    (continued) 175 

XXVI.    The    Essay    (continued) 178 

XXVII.     The   Essay    (concluded) 185 

XXVIII.     Biography 193 

XXIX.     Biography    (continued) .201 

XXX.     Biography   (concluded) 213 

XXXI.     History 225 

XXXII.     History    (continued)        285 

XXXIII.  History    (concluded)        248 

XXXIV.  The   Oration      . 263 

XXXV.    The  Oration  (continued) 274 

XXXVI.     The  Oration   (continued) 282 

XXXVII.     The  Oration   (continued) 295 

XXXVIII.     The  Oration  (concluded) 306 

XXXIX.     Fiction 327 

XL,     Fiction   (continued) 340 

XLI.     The  Novel 348 

XLII.     Representative  Authors  of  Fiction 356 


PART  III 
ANALYSIS    OF    POETIC    FORMS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XLIII.  Poetry 38s 

1    XLIV.  Poetry  (continued) 394 

XLV.  The   Drama 404 

XLVI.  Characters  of  the  Drama 410 

XLVII.  Ethics  of  the   Drama 433 

XLVIII.  Representative  Authors 439 

XLTX.  The   Epic 4W 

L.  The  Epic  (continued) 487 

LI.  The  Lyric 514 

LI  I.  The  Lyric   (continued) 534 

LI  II.  Conclusion 548 


APPENDIX 

I.    Special    Bibliographies    of    the    Letter,    Essay,    Biography,    History, 

Oration,  Fiction,  Poetry. 
II.    General  Index. 


AN    ACKNOWLEDGMENT    TO    PUBLISHERS    AND 

AUTHORS 

NOTE. —  The  student,  teacher,  and  general  reader  are  invited 
to  read  the  literary  critics  mentioned  below,  from  whose 
works  selections  have  been  made  in  the  compilation  of  this 
handbook ;  they  are  also  requested  to  remember  the  courtesy 
of  the  publishers  who  granted  permission  to  the  author  to 
use  these  selections. 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  New  York. 

Raymond,  George  Lansing Poetry  as  a  Representative  Art. 

Bain,   Alexander English  Composition  and  Rhetoric. 

Hardwicke,  Henry Oratory  and  Orators. 

Sears,  Lorenzo Occasional   Addresses. 

A.  C  McCLURG  &  COMPANY,  Chicago. 

Rabb,    Kate   Milner National  Epics. 

Spalding,  John  Lancaster Collected  Works. 

Chesterfield,   Lord Letters. 

LONGMANS,  GREEN  &  COMPANY,  New  York. 

Newman,  John   Henry Collected  Works. 

Thomson,  Daniel   Greenleaf The  Philosophy  of  Fiction. 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  COMPANY,  Boston. 

Bates,    Arlo Talks  on  Literature. 

Browning,   Robert Collected  Works. 

Stedman,  Edmund  Clarence Poets  of  America. 

Stedman,  Edmund  Clarence Nature  and  Elements  of  Poetry. 

DODD.   MEAD  &  COMPANY,  New  York. 

Mabie,  H.  W Collected  Works. 

THE  CLARENDON  PRESS,  Oxford. 

Moulton,  Richard  Green Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatic  Artist. 

ix 


x  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

SCOTT,  FORESMAN  &  COMPANY,  Chicago. 

Mathews,    William Oratory  and  Orators. 

Welsh,    Alfred    H. English   Literature  and   Language. 

A.  C  ARMSTRONG  &  SON,  New  York. 

Hunt,   Theodore   W Literature  and   Style. 

D.  C.  HEATH  &  COMPANY,  Boston. 

Moulton,    Richard    Green Literary  Study  of  the  Bible. 

O'Connor,  J.   F.   X Rhetoric  and  Oratory. 

THE   AMERICAN    BOOK   COMPANY,  New  York. 

Shaw,    Thomas    B Manual  of  English  Literature. 

HENRY  HOLT  &  COMPANY,  Boston. 

Perry,    Thomas    Sergeant History  of  Greek  Literature. 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  New  York. 
English   Men  of  Letters Series. 

BENJAMIN  H.   SANBORN  &  COMPANY,  Boston. 

Mead,    William    Edward Composition   and   Rhetoric. 

THE  WERNER  COMPANY,  Akron,  Ohio. 

The  New  Werner  Twentieth  Century    Encyclopedia     (Britannica). 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS,  New  York. 

Forsyth,    William Life  of  Cicero. 

Marsh,    George    P Origin   and    History   of   the    English 

Language. 

GEORGE  BELL  &  SONS,  London. 
Bohn's    Classical    Libraries 

THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY,  New  York. 

Arnold,    Matthew Essays  in  Criticism. 

Pater,   Walter Appreciations. 

GINN  &  COMPANY,  Boston. 

Qajey  &   Scott Literary   Criticism.      . 

Mace.    William    H Method   in  History. 

Hudson.  Rev.  H.  N Shakespeare,  Life  and  Art. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS  xi 

TOTTN  J.  McVEY  &  COMPANY,  Philadelphia. 

Fenelon,    Archbishop Three  Dialogues  on  Eloquence. 

J.  H.  COATES  &  COMPANY,  Philadelphia. 

Hutton,    Richard   Holt Essays  in  Criticism. 

PENN  PUBLISHING  COMPANY,  Philadelphia. 
Beecher,  Henry  Ward Oratory. 

W.  J.  WIDDLETON  &  COMPANY,  New  York  City. 
Trench,  Richard  Chenevix Study  of  Words. 

THE  CENTURY  COMPANY,  New  York  City. 
The  Century  Dictionary 

A  full  list  of  the  Authors  quoted  in    this    Handbook    will    be    found 
among  the  Bibliographies  at  the  close  of  the  volume.    See  Appendices. 


•>,  ,  V»  J    ?"•  v  ;5»J  •".• '  •',*» 
PART    I 

CHAPTER  I 
LITERATURE  AS  A  FINE  ART 

Literature  as  a  Fine  Art. — In  the  treatment  of  literature 
the  proposition  which  seems  to  stand  most  in  need  of  assertion 
at  the  present  moment  is,  that  literature  is  a  fine  art,  and  should 
be  studied  in  connection  with  the  other  fine  arts.  For  the 
same  "  first  principles  "  which  apply  to  painting,  music,  sculp- 
ture, architecture,  apply  with  equal  force  to  literature.-.,. Like- 
wise, literature  has  its  own  form  and  content,  and  a  medium 
far  more  subtle  and  complex  than  sound  or  color  or  stone. 

The  Affinity  of  Literature  to  Other  Fine  Arts. — The  rela- 
tion that  literary  art  sustains  toward  the  other  arts  is  aptly 
expressed  by  Cicero:  Omnes  artes  quasi  uno  vinculo  con- 
junguntur  —  all  the  arts  are  bound  together  as  by  a  com- 
mon bond.  Hence,  literary  art  must  have  some  affinity  with 
sculpture,  painting,  architecture;  and  this  affinity  is  found  in 
the  underlying  principles  of  all  art.  These  principles,  as  ex- 
pressed by  the  Greeks,  are  unity,  harmony,  balance,  propor- 
tion. They  form  the  common  bond  which  binds  all  the  arts 
together. 

The  Source  of  These  Principles. — They  are  all  found  in 
nature,  and  they  were  appropriated  by  the  human  artist. 
"  Art/'  says  Aristotle,  "  is  mimesis  or  imitation  of  nature." 
The  things  of  nature  are  individualized,  marked  off  as  sepa- 
rate units;  and,  thus  separated,  they  exhibit  unity,  harmony, 


2  LITERATURE  AS  A  FINE  ART 

balance,  proportion.  \  The  more  common  illustrations  are  a 
tree''6r  a'  flower:  '"Even  a  superficial  examination  of  these 
ofyjec;t£'.r£v<ea}s.  the*'/'  flr-st  principles  "  of  art.  Wherever  one 
of  tliese  principles  is  wanting,  we  call  a  thing  deformed: 
where  all  are  absent  we  apply  the  term  chaotic  —  we  call  it 
chaos.  Man  imitated  the  divine  Artist ;  and  in  building,  carv- 
ing, painting,  writing,  he  applied  the  selfsame  principles. 
His  art  increased  or  decreased  in  merit  according  to  the  man- 
ner in  which  these  principles  were  applied.  A  Gothic  cathe- 
dral, a  poem,  a  painting,  will  illustrate  the  manner  of 
application :  each  work  of  art  is  one,  embodying  the  principle 
of  unity;  the  parts  of  each  work  harmonize,  one  with  the 
other;  balance  and  proportion  strike  the  eye  at  a  glance,  as 
in  the  leaves  of  a  flower  or  the  branches  of  a  tree. 

The  Relation  of  Literary  Art  .to  Science. —  Both  unite  in 
expressing  the  true;  but  the  former  adds  beauty  to  the  truth 
of  the  assertion.  Some  illustrations : 

Science:     "  The  sun  has  spots  upon  its  surface." 

Art:    "  The  orb  of  day  is  dashed  with  wandering  isles  of 
night." 

Science:    "  Autumn  changes  the  leaves  from  green  to  red  or 

yellow." 
Art:    "  Autumn  lays  a  fiery  finger  on  the  leaves." 

Science:     "  The  rock-walls  of  my  castle  are  impregnable." 
Art:     "  My  castle's  strength  will  laugh  a  siege  to  scorn." 

Science:     "  The  rays  of  the  sun  grow  in  intensity  as  the  sun 

mounts  toward  the  zenith." 

Art:     "  The  sun  tricks  his  beams  and  with  new  spangled  ore 
flames  in  the  forehead  of  the  morning  sky." 

The  primary  object  of  all  art  is  to  express  beauty,  and  it 
is  clear  from  these  examples  that  literary  art  adds  beauty  to 
the  bare  scientific  assertion  of  a  truth. 


THE  ESTHETIC  SENSE  3 

Other  Relationships  of  Science  and  Literary  Art. —  Science 
is  limited  to  the  true :  literary  art  covers  a  much  larger 
field ;  as  a  basis  it  may  have  the  wholly  true,  the  partially  true 
or  the  wholly  false.  As  illustrations  of  the  first  class  we  may 
take  Biblical  literature  or  popularized  science;  of  the  second 
class  there  is  the  historical  drama  or  novel,  the  great  epics; 
of  the  third  class  there  is  the  realm  of  pure  fiction. 

Again,  literary  art  is  concrete,  synthetical,  creative;  science 
is  abstract,,  analytical,  impersonal.  While  the  latter  appeals 
to  the  intellect,  the  former  makes  its  primary  appeal  to  the 
aesthetic  sense  and  to  the  emotions.  It  is  art  that  addresses 
itself  to  the  human  in  man;  hence,  in  the  older  universities 
the  classics  are  called  "  the  humanities."  Literary  art  may 
truthfully  employ  the  language  of -Terence  —  Homo  sum: 
humani  nihil  a  me  alienum  puto. 

Once  more,  science  deals  with  parts;  literary  art  with 
wholes.  Plato  has  this  to  say  of  the  literary  structure: 
"  Every  literary  work  ought  to  be  put  together  like  a  living 
creature,  with  due  proportion  of  head,  hands  or  feet  and 
body."  As  the  parts  in  the  animal  organism  are  determined 
by  the  vital  principle^  animating  them  in  such  a  manner 
that  all  unconsciously  develop  into  fitness  and  harmony,  so 
is  it  with  a  literary  production  —  a  central  thought  or  idea 
acts  in  it  like  the.  animating  principle  in  the  living  organism, 
making  a  complete  creation  to  which  it  gives  unity  and 
harmony 

Literary  Art  and  the  -^Esthetic  Sense. — Inasmuch  as  liter- 
ature is  a  fine  art,  its  primary  object  is  beauty,  and  its  primary 
appeal  is^o  the  aesthetic  sense.  This  sense  is  described  as 
our  faculty,  or  power,  of  appreciating  the  beautiful,  whether 
in  the  physical,  moral  or  intellectual  order.  Lessing  de- 
scribes it  as  our  faculty  of  appreciating  those  ideals  which  j 
art  externalizes  and  renders  concrete.  The  old  rhetoricians 


4        •  LITERATURE  AS  A  FINE  ART 

described  it  under  the  heading  of  good  taste  or  the  capability 
of  perceiving  and  estimating  the  beauties  of  nature  and  of 
art.  It  is,  therefore,  a  certain  natural  and  instinctive  sensi- 
bility to  beauty.  As  a  fine  taste  judges  food;  so,  metaphor- 
ically, a  fine  taste,  or  the  aesthetic  sense,  judges  beauty. 

A  Universal  Endowment. — The  aesthetic  sense  is  as  in- 
nate to  man  as  his  physical  sense  of  taste  or  touch,  and  it 
is  quite  as  universal.  For  the  most  ignorant  savages  have 
some  discernment  of  beauty.  They  possess  an  art,  although 
it  be  primitive  and  exceedingly  crude.  Witness  their  dress, 
war  ornaments,  the  painting  of  their  bodies,  their  ballads, 
tales  and  death-songs.  The  aesthetic  sense  varies  in  degree 
according  to  the  peculiar  gifts,  the  location,  the  advantages 
of  culture,  refinement,  civilization,  enjoyed  by  nations.  Thus, 
for  example,  the  ancient  Greeks  possessed  the  keenest  ap- 
preciation of  beauty;  nature  provided  them  with  this  special 
gift,  and  also  a  most  beautiful  natural  environment  upon 
which  this  talent  could  be  exercised.  They  also  enjoyed  the 
advantages  of  the  rarest  culture  and  the  highest  degree  of 
civilization.  Add  to  all  this  their  wonderful  creative  faculty, 
and  it  is  not  surprising  that  they  left  the  best  models  in  every 
department  of  the  fine  arts. 

Improvement  of  the  Esthetic  Sense. — It  is  improved  by 
locality.  Witness  the  effect  of  the  skies  and  landscape  of 
Italy  or  Greece  upon  the  artists  who  have  flourished  in  those 
places.  It  is  improved  by  discipline.  In  the  same  nation 
note  the  difference  between  those  who  study  the  fine  arts  and 
the  untaught  multitude.  It  is  improved  by  -intelligence. 
The  extraordinary  mental  power  of  the  Greeks  was  a  strong 
factor  in  the  development  of  their  esthetic  sense.  It  enabled 
them  to  judge  a  work  of  art,  compare  it  with  nature's  original, 
show  the  connection  of  parts  and  their  relation  to  the  whole. 


•/•///•:  /ESTHETIC  SENSE  c 

Thus,  in  analyzing  an  intricate  masterpiece,  reason  told  them 
why  and  upon  what  grounds  their  artistic  work  was  beautiful. 
Finally,  the  aesthetic  sense  is  developed  by  a  good  heart  — 
by  strong  and  virtuous  affection.  As  Edmund  Burke  writes : 
"  He  whose  heart  is  indelicate  or  hard,  he  who  has  no  admira- 
tion of  what  is  truly  noble  or  praiseworthy,  nor  the  proper 
sympathetic  sense  of  what  is  soft  and  tender,  must  have  a 
very  imperfect  appreciation  of  the  highest  beauties  of  art." 

Lines  of  Development. — They  are  two:  delicacy  and  cor- 
rectness. As  our ,  appreciation  of  beauty  grows  it  becomes 
delicate;  we  see  hidden  beauties  that  escape  the  vulgar  eye^ 
we  become  sensible  to  the  smallest  blemishes.  As  our  power 
of  appreciation  develops  it  becomes  more  correct;  we  are 
able  to  distinguish  genuine  from  counterfeit  beauties ;  our 
judgment  improves  so  that  we  can  classify  and  estimate 
works  of  genius.  The  value  of  delicacy  lies  chiefly  in  dis- 
cerning the  true  merit  of  a  work ;  the  value  of  correctness,  in 
rejecting  false  pretensions  to  merit. 

The  Ultimate  Judge  of  Merit. — Our  aesthetic  sense  is  just 
and  true  when  it  agrees  with  the  general  judgment  of  men. 
The  supreme  court  in  this  matter  is  not  a  school,  nor  a  faction, 
nor  the  popular  fancy,  but  mankind  in  general.  What  all 
men  agree  in  admiring  must  be  beautiful.  The  concurring 
judgment  or  feeling  of  the  race  is  the  last  court  of  appeal. 
And  the  sound  and  natural  state  of  our  aesthetic  sense  is 
ultimately  determined  by  the  general  taste  of  mankind.  As 
illustrations  of  this  irreversible  and  infallible  judgment  there 
are  the  epics  of  Homer,  Virgil,  Milton ;  the  dramas  of  vEschy- 
lus,  Sophocles,  Shakespeare ;  the  sculpture  of  Phidias;  the  arch- 
itecture of  the  Gothic  cathedral ;  the  painting  of  the  Italian 
masters,  the  music  of  Wagner;  and  so  on  through  the 
long  list  of  the  artists  of  every  age,  who,  in  spite  of  years, 
are  immortally  young. 


6  LITERATURE  AS  A  FINE  ART 

Practical  Value. — The  'literary  artist  should  develop  his 
faculty  for  appreciating  the  beautiful,  for  he  thus  becomes 
his  own  critic  in  choosing  words  and  sentences,  in  writing 
graceful  and  harmonious  composition,  and,  above  all,  in 
selecting  high  and  worthy  ideals  for  his  art. 


CHAPTER  II 
ART-FORM  IN  LITERATURE.        WORDS 

Elements  of  Art- Form. —  These  elements  are  the  word,  sen- 
tence, paragraph,  complete  composition.  Each  element  claims 
its  own  definition,  analysis  and  place  in  relation  to  the  art- 
form  of  literature.  In  the  case  of  poetry,  the  paragraph  yields 
its  name  to  the  stanza,  section,  or  to  some  other  title,  but  the 
idea  of  subordinate  topics  and  divisions  for  which  the  para- 
graph stands,  is  quite  the  same  whether  in  verse  or  prose.  It 
remains  to  view  each  of  the  elements  in  detail. 

Words  in  Relation  to  Literary  Art. —  Words  are  the  material 
which  the  literary  artist  uses,  as  the  painter  uses  colors,  as  the 
musician  uses  the  keys  of  a  piano,  as  the  sculptor  uses  mar- 
ble. They  are  the  simplest  element  of  composition ;  yet  upon 
their  mastery  the  excellence  of  literary  art  depends  in  a  large 
measure.  The  right  word,  like  the  right  key  of  the~piano,  or 
the  right  color  in  painting,  always  gives  the  proper  tone  to  the 
composition ;  any  other  word  would  mar  the  harmony  —  lessen 
or  destroy  the  effect.  The  skill  of  the  artist  is  shown  in  the 
selection  of  words  as  it  is  shown  in  the  harmony  of  keys  or 
colors. 

Various  Definitions  of  Words. —  Words,  says  Plato,  form 
the  body  of  composition,  and  thought  forms  its  soul.  Marsh 
also  describes  words  as  the  living  vesture  which  thoughts  find 
for  themselves.  Schlegel  likens  words  to  amber  in  which 
thousands  of  precious  thoughts  are  preserved.  Emerson  goes 
to  geology  for  a  suitable  illustration :  "  Just  as  in  some  fossil, 

7 


8  AKT-l'OKM  IN  LITERATURE 

curious  and  beautiful  shapes,  the  graceful  fern  or  the  finely 
vertebrated  lizard  are  preserved;  so  in  words  are  beautiful 
thoughts  and  images  —  the  imagination  and  feeling  of  past 
ages."  "  Words,"  says  Trench,  "  are  not  merely  arbitrary 
signs  denoting  ideas,  but  living  powers;  they  are  not  like  the 
sands  of  the  sea,  innumerable,  disconnected  atoms,  but  growing 
out  of  roots  clustering  in  families,  they  connect  and  intertwine 
themselves  with  all  that  men  have  been  doing  and  thinking 
and  feeling  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  till  now.  They 
are  a  glorious  inheritance  which  other  generations  by  their 
truth  and  toil  have  made  ready  for  us." 

The  Origin  of  Words. — •  As  Trench  remarks,  there  are  two 
theories  concerning  the  origin  of  language.  "  One  theory 
would  put  language  on  the  same  level  with  the  various  arts 
and  inventions  with  which  man  has  gradually  adorned  and  en- 
riched his  life.  It  would  make  him  by  degrees  to  have  in- 
vented it  just  as  he  might  have  invented  any  of  those,  for  him- 
self; and  from  rude,  imperfect  beginnings,  the  inarticulate 
cries  by  which  he  expressed  his  natural  wants,  the  sounds  by 
which  he  sought  to  imitate  the  impression  of  the  natural  ob- 
jects upon  him,  little  by  little  to  have  arrived  at  that  wondrous 
organ  of  thought  and  feeling,  which  his  language  is  often  to 
him  now."  This  theory  makes  of  language  a  gradual  a^nd 
complete  evolution  from  the  broken  cries  of  the  Baboon  to  the 
glorious  periods  of  a  Cicero  or  a  Webster.  The  second  theory 
is  thus  set  forth  by  Trench :  "  God  gave  man  language  just  as 
He  gave  him  reason,  and  just  because  He  gave  him  reason; 
for  what  is  man's  word  but  his  reason,  coming  forth  that  it 
may  behold  itself?  They  are  indeed  so  essentially  one  and  the 
same  that  the  Greek  language  has  one  word  for  them  both. 
God  gave  it  to  man  because  he  could  not  be  a  man,  that  is, 
a  social  being  without  it.  Yet  this  must  not  be  taken  to  af- 
firm that  man  started  at  the  first  furnished  with  a  full- formed 


WORDS  9 

vocabulary  of  words.  He  did  not  thus  begin  the  world  with 
mimes,  but  with  the  power  of  naming.  God  did  not  teach  man 
words  as  one  of  us  teaches  a  parrot,  but  gave  him  a  capacity 
and  then  evoked  the  capacity  which  He  gave.  This  point  is 
clear  from  Genesis :  He  brought  the  animals  to  Adam  to  see 
what  he  would  call  them,  and  whatsoever  Adam  called  every 
living  creature,  that  was  the  name  thereof.  Here  we  have 
the  clearest  intimation  of  the  origin,  at  once  divine  and  human, 
of  words." 

Partial  Agreement  of  Both  Theories. —  They  agree  in  ad- 
mitting an  evolutionary  process.  They  disagree  in  this :  the 
initial  power  of  naming  or  coining  words.  One  theory  main- 
tains that  man  had  from  the  very  beginning  the  full  power  and 
capacity  for  naming  things ;  the  other  theory  maintains  that 
man  gained  this  power  and  capacity  gradually,  as  his  vocal  or- 
gans were  gradually  trained  to  the  pronunciation  of  words, 
Renan  in  his  history  of  language  says  that  all  languages,  like 
all  organisms,  are  subject  to  the  law  of  gradual  development. 
Yet  the  primitive  language  possessed  those  elements  necessary 
to  its  integrity ;  all  were  there,  but  confusedly  and  without  dis- 
tinction ;  all  were  in  the  germ  which  slowly  expanded  into  reg- 
ular form  and  proportion.  This  law  of  language  is  the  la\v 
of  all  life  as  exhibited  in  organisms.  We  may  liken  it  to  the 
growth  of  a  tree  springing  out  of,  and  unfolding  itself  from  a 
root,  that  root  being  the  divine  capacity  for  language  with 
which  man  was  created.  In  this  explanation  of  Renan  we 
have  all  that  appears  to  be  sound  in  both  theories  respecting 
the  origin  of  language. 

How  Words  have  Multiplied. —  Words  multiplied  as  man  ex- 
tended his  rule  over  nature,  New  facts,  new  discoveries,  new 
inventions,  new  arts,  new  philosophies,  ne\v  religions  —  all 
clamored  for  the  new  word  and  the  new  phrase.  In  this 


I0  ART-FORM  IN  LITERATURE 

connection  words  are  called  the  record  of  discoveries,  the  mile- 
stones of  human  progress.  For  example,  words  like  trinity, 
Christian,  pagan,  monarchy,  patriarch,  democracy,  theocracy, 
tyranny,  impressionist,  realist,  nominalist,  reformation,  revo- 
lution, crusade,  abolition,  and  a  host  of  others,  mark  whole 
epochs  in  human  history.  With  a  boundless  world  lying 
around  him  and  demanding  to  be  catalogued  and  named,  man 
was  compelled  to  add  to  his  vocabulary;  and  as  he  advanced 
in  civilization  and  multipHed  the  arts  and  sciences,  as  well  as 
civil  and  religious  institutions,  this  verbal  addition  was  bound 
to  be  enlarged.  On  thir  point  John  Stuart  Mill  observes : 
"  Hardly  any  original  thoughts  on  mental  or  social  subjects 
ever  make  their  way  amc  ,ig  mankind  or  assume  their  proper 
importance  in  the  minds  even  of  their  inventors  until  aptly 
selected  words  or  phrases  have,  as  it  were,  nailed  them  down 
and  held  them  fast."  Some  recent  illustrations  :  the  philosophy 
of  evolution  represented  by  the  "  survival  of  the  fittest  "  ;  "  the 
struggle  for  existence  " ;  "  the  process  of  natural  selection." 
The  late  political  movement  in  Ireland  is  immortalized  by  the 
word  "  boycott."  Similarly,  such  phrases  and  words  as 
'  sphere  of  influence/  '  the  cross  of  gold,'  '  abolition,'  '  total  ab- 
stinence,' '  imperialism,'  '  state  rights,'  '  reconstruction,'  and 
hundreds  of  other  terms  represent  large  movements  in  human 
history,  crystallized  fragments  of  which  are  thus  imbedded  in 
a  nation's  vocabulary. 

And  so,  as  Trench  observes,  words  are  the  embodiment  of 
the  feelings,  thoughts  and  experiences  of  many  nations.  They 
mark  how  far  the  moral  and  intellectual  conquests  of  mankind 
have  advanced.  They  convey  the  mental  treasures  of  one 
period  to  the  generations  that  follow.  They  sail  safely  across 
gulfs  of  time  in  which  empires  have  suffered  shipwreck.  We 
speak  of  "  Punic  faith  "  to-day,  although  Carthage  has  been  in 
ruins  over  2,000  years. 


WORDS  1 1 

The  Two-Fold  Function  of  Words. —  A  word  when  used  by 
the  literary  artist  has  two  functions  to  perform.  First,  it  calls 
up  an  image  of  the  thing  it  stands  for.  Secondly,  it  calls  up  a 
set  of  ideas  associated  therewith.  In  the  first  case,  it  denotes 
one  thing;  in  the  second  case  it  connotes  many  things.  The  ar- 
tist must  consider  this  power  of  denotation  and  connotation. 
For  example,  take  the  expressions,  '  bad  faith  '  and  '  Punic 
faith.'  They  denote  the  same  idea.  But  the  second  expres- 
sion connotes  much  more  than  the  first.-  A  legion  of  ideas  are 
associated  with  the  word,  Punic,  which  make  a  vivid  and  last- 
ing impression,  driving  home  the  abstract  idea  contained  in 
the  word,  *  bad.'  Or,  again,  take  the  verb  '  to  boycott ' ;  it  de- 
notes '  to  ostracize '  or  '  to  let  severely  alone.'  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  connotes  a  legion  of  vivid  ideas,  as  the  image  of 
Captain  Boycott,  hated  and  shunned  by  the  Irish  peasantry, 
comes  before  the  mind.  "  Mr.  Jones,  the  Alderman,  roots  for 
popularity  in  the  ninth  ward."  "  Our  esteemed  contemporary, 
the  democratic  Free  Press,  is  braying  for  a  change  in  the  ad- 
ministration." Examples  may  be  multiplied  indefinitely.  A 
clever  literary  artist,  like  a  judge  of  rare  spices,  detects  at  once 
the  flavor  of  words  possessing  any  power  of  connotation ;  and 
the  selection  of  a  word  often  depends  upon  this  varying  and 
subtle  power.  As  Mr.  Bates  observes,  "  To  suggest  by  the 
choice  of  words  those  delicate  and  subtle  ideas  which  are  like 
a  fragrance  or  like  the  iridescent  sheen  of  nacre  is  one  of  the 
highest  triumphs  of  literary  art;  and  the  nice  artist  in  words 
is  certainly  not  less  careful  in  regard  to  the  connotation  of 
words  than  he  is  of  their  denotation.'* 

Selection  of  Nouns. —  These  are  the  most  ancient  part  of 
speech.  In  the  art  of  writing  they  first  claim  our  attention. 
Before  man  could  speak  or  write  about  any  subject,  he  had  to 
name  it.  As  the  number  of  subjects  is  so  great  and  so  varied, 
he  soon  possessed  an  unlimited  number  of  substantives,  that  are 


I2  ART-FORM  IN  LITERATURE 

commonly  called  nouns.  The  selection  of  the  noun  is  perhaps 
the  easiest  task  for  the  literary  artist.  It  is  suggested  by  the 
subject  in  hand.  The  power  of  connotation  common  to  all 
words  is  shared  by  the  noun,  especially  when  the  connotation 
is  supported  by  the  rest  of  the  phrase  or  sentence.  For  this 
purpose  our  language  is  rich  in  synonyms.  The  metaphori- 
cal use  of  gender  is  also  a  consideration  for  the  literary  artist. 
The  genius  of  our  language  permits  us,  whenever  it  will  add 
beauty  to  our  composition,  to  make  the  names  of  inanimate 
objects  either  masculine  or  feminine,  in  a  metaphorical  sense. 
For  example,  "  Justice  is  the  law  of  nature ;  SHE  alone  con- 
fers honor  upon  man."  No  other  language  offers  this  ad- 
vantage, for  in  other  languages  every  word  has  a  fixed  gender 
which  can  on  no  occasion  be  changed.  Finally,  the  declen- 
sion of  the  noun  claims  attention.  By  abolishing  cases  we 
have  made  the  structure  of  English  most  simple.  Simplicity 
and  ease  are  the  chief  benefits  we  derive  from  the  use  of  prep- 
ositions instead  of  case  endings.  Any  foreigner  realizes  how 
simple  the  English  is  because  of  this  change.  But  it  is  a  bene- 
fit often  gained  at  the  expense  of  harmony :  certain  words  must 
be  placed  close  by  one  another  in  a  period  to  show  that  they 
are  connected  in  meaning,  and  frequently  the  words  so  placed 
do  not  harmonize,  thereby  marring  the  beauty  and  rhythm  of 
the  sentence. 

Selection  of  Verbs. —  The  verb  is  the  most  complex  part  of 
speech,  and  therefore  makes  the  heaviest  demand  upon  the 
reason  of  the  writer.  The  choice  of  the  verb  depends  upon 
the  writer's  perception  of  truth.  It  contains  a  predicate  or  . 
statement  and  thereby  involves  an  exercise  of  reason.  It  car- 
ries with  it  several  subtle  divisions  of  time.  The  exact  expres- 
sion of  time  usually  accompanies  the  affirmation  made  by  the 
verb.  Reason  must  weigh  the  affirmation  from  the  viewpoint 
of  time  as  well  as  significance.  As  Dr.  Blair  writes,  "  On  ac- 


WORHS  j  ^ 

count  of  its  importance  this  part  of  speech  receives  its  name, 
verb,  from  the  Latin  verhum  —  the  word.  They  (the  verbs) 
must  have  been  coeval  with  men's  first  attempts  toward  the 
formation  of  language,  although  it  must  have  been  the  work 
of  a  long  time  to  rear  them  up  to  that  accurate  and  complex 
structure  which  they  now  possess.  Owing  to  their  subtle  na- 
ture, they  possess  a  greater  power  of  connotation  than  the 
noun.  Like  ail  modern  European  tongues,  the  English  makes 
use  of  the  auxiliary  verb.  It  renders  language  more  simple 
and  easy  in  structure,  having  the  same  effect  as  the  change  from 
the  case-ending  to  the  preposition.  On  the  whole,  it  improves 
the  English  as  an  art-medium." 

Selection  of  Adjectives.— The  adjective  makes  a  primary 
appeal  to  the  aesthetic  sense.  It  is  the  flesh  dressing  out  the 
skeleton.  It  is  called  the  cloth  of  gold  on  the  field  of  literature. 
The  adjective  more  than  any  other  part  of  speech  justifies  the 
term  art,  as  applied  to  writing.  The  selection  of  the  adjective 
requires  both  judgment  and  taste.  The  same  is  true  of  the  ad- 
verb, for  both  are  the  finishing  touches  given  to  the  literary 
canvas.  The  right  adjective  is  determined  •  partly  by  the 
qualities  or  attributes  of  the  substantives  to  which  it  be- 
longs, and  partly  by  the  general  effect  of  the  whole  composition. 
Often  an  adjective  which  of  right  belongs  to  a  certain  sub- 
stantive, must  be  modified  in  the  interest  of  the  general  effect, 
just  as  lively  colors  must  often  be  "  toned  down  "  on  the  can- 
vas. Perhaps  no  part  of  speech  requires  as  much  care  as  the 
adjective.  As  Professor  Mead  observes :  "  Young  writers  are 
tempted  to  make  too  free  use  of  adjectives  because  they  furnish 
superlative  forms  of  expression.  They  heap  epithets  upon  ev- 
ery substantive  till  it  is  smothered  under  qualifying  words.  It 
is  the  mistake  of  the  young  painter  with  a  pot  of  bright  col- 
ors." 


14  ART-FORM  IN  LITERATURE 

Use  of  Particles. —  For  final  consideration  there  are  the  con- 
nective particles;  they  mark  the  movement  from  one  idea  to 
another,  and  thus  form  the  connection  of  thoughts.  These 
particles  increased  as  man  advanced  in  civilization.  The  more 
perfect  language  becomes,  the  more  numerous  are  these  parti- 
cles. No  language  has  such  a  plentiful  supply  of  them  as  the 
Greek  —  the  clearest  proof  of  an  unrivalled  refinement  and  civ- 
ilization. In  English  a  great  deal  depends  upon  the  proper 
management  of  these  particles.  They  make  a  composition  ap- 
pear firm  and  compact  or  disjointed  and  loose;  they  cause  it 
to  march  with  a  smooth  and  easy  pace,  or  render  its  progress 
rough  and  irregular.  Particles  are  in  constant  demand;  our 
words  have  been  brought  to  us  from  so  many  diverse  sources 
that,  as  it  were,  they  straggle  asunder ;  they  do  not  coalesce  so 
naturally  in  the  structure  of  a  sentence  as  the  words  of  a 
language  built  on  one  foundation.  Hence,  the  need  of  parti- 
cles. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  WORD 
SOURCES  OF  ENGLISH  WORDS 

Universal  Indebtedness. — "  The  sources  of  our  English  vo- 
cabulary are  extremely  various.  No  other  tongue,  ancient  or 
modern,  has  appeared  in  so  many  and  so  different  phases ;  and 
no  other  people  of  high  civilization  has  so  completely  disre- 
garded the  barriers  of  race  and  circumstance  and  adopted  into 
its  speech  so  great  a  number  of  un-native  words.  The  mak- 
ing of  the  English  language  began,  it  may  be  said,  with  the 
introduction  of  Roman  rule  and  Roman  speech  among  the 
barbarous  Celts  of  Britain,  The  Latin  language,  as  the  vehi- 
cle of  civilization,  affected  strongly  the  Celtic,  and  also  the 
speech  of  the  Teutonic  peoples,  Saxons,  Angles,  and  Jutes, 
who  in  the  fifth  century  obtained  a  footing  on  the  island^  This 
Teutonic  tongue,  while  assimilating  something  both  of  the  na- 
tive Celtic  idiom,  and  of  the  Latin  in  a  Celtic  guise,  in  time 
became  the  dominant  language.  The  speech  thus  formed 
(called  Anglo-Saxon  or,  as  some  prefer,  Old  English)  was 
raised  almost  to  classic  rank  by  the  labors  of  Alfred  and  of 
the  numerous  priests  and  scholars  who  sought  to  convey  to 
their  countrymen  in  their  native  language  the  treasures  of 
Latin  learning  and  the  precepts  of  the  Roman  Catholic  church. 
Though  uniting  in  the  ninth  century  with  an  influx  of  Scan- 
dinavian speech,  and  in  the  eleventh  century,  through  the  Nor- 
man conquest,  with  the  stream  which  flowed  through  France 
from  Rome,  it  remained  the  chief  fountain  of  English.  From 
these  two  elements,  the  Teutonic  and  the  Latin  (the  latter  both 

is 


j5  THE  WORD 

in  its  original  form  and  as  modified  in  the  Romance  tongues), 
our  language  has  been  constructed ;  although  materials  more  or 
less  important  have  been  borrowed  from  almost  every  known 
speech."  (See  Century  Dictionary,  Preface,  VII.) 

The  Native  English. —  It  is  sometimes  called  Old  English 
or  Anglo-Saxon.  This  Saxon  source  first  claims  our  atten- 
tion. As  Herbert  Spencer  indicates,  (Philosophy  of  Style) 
there  are  special  reasons  for  so  doing,  the  most  important  be- 
ing early  association.  A  child's  vocabulary  is  almost  wholly 
Saxon :  he  says,  "  I  have,"  not  "  I  possess  " ;  "  I  wish,"  not  "  I 
desire  " ;  he  floes  not  reflect,  he  thinks;  he  does  not  beg  for 
amusement,  but  for  play;  he  calls  things  nice  or  nasty,  not 
pleasant  or  disagreeable. 

The  Special  Value  of  Saxon  to  the  Literary  Artist. —  First 
of  all,  our  native  vocabulary  economizes  attention  because  of 
the  brevity  of  the  words ;  secondly,  it  makes  the  widest  appeal 
because  most  generally  understood ;  thirdly,  it  is  valuable  be- 
cause of  the  imitative  character  of  the  words  (e.  g?  splash, 
bang,  roar,  etc.)  ;  fourthly,  it  is  valuable  because  the  words 
are  concrete  and  specific,  not  generic  and  abstract;  fifthly,  it 
is  valuable  because  of  its  tendency  to  compounds;  sixthly,  it 
is  valuable  because  it  furnishes  the  proper  basis  and  main 
structure  of  our  present  English;  lastly,  it  is  valuable  on  ac- 
count of  being  so  largely  the  language  of  emotion,  wit  and 
pleasantry.  A  word  about  each  of  these  separate  merits. 

Brevity.— Saxon  words  are,  for  the  most  part,  words  of  one 
syllable.  On  this  point  Herbert  Spencer  observes  (Philosophy 
of  Style)  :  "  The  superiority  possessed  by  Saxon  English  is  its 
comparative  brevity.  If  it  be  an  advantage  to  express  an  ide? 
in  the  smallest  number  of  words,  then  will  it  be  an  advantage 
to  express  it  in  the  smallest  number  of  syllables.  If  circuitous? 


SAXON  WORDS  ij 

phrases  and  needless  expletives  distract  the  attention  and  di- 
minish the  strength  of  the  impression  produced,  then  do  sur- 
plus articulations  also.  A  certain  effort  must  be  required  to 
recognize  every  vowel  and  consonant;  some  attention  is  ab- 
sorbed by  each  syllable.  Hence,  the  shortness  of  Saxon  words 
becomes  a  reason  for  their  greater  force." 

Appeal.— The  best  art  makes  the  widest  appeal.  Literary 
art  makes  the  widest  appeal  when  it  employs  the  words  most 
easily  understood.  Owing  to  long  familiarity  and  early  asso- 
ciation, the  Saxon  element  enjoys  the  distinction  of  being  most 
easily  understood.  From  childhood  we  learn  the  significance 
of  Saxon  words.  If  we  remember  how  slowly  and  with  what 
labor  the  appropriate  ideas  follow  unfamiliar  words  in  another 
language,  and  how  increasing  familiarity  with  such  words 
brings  greater  rapidity  and  ease  of  comprehension ;  and  if  we 
consider  that  the  same  process  must  have  gone  on  with  the 
words  of  our  mother  tongue  from  childhood  upwards,  we  shall 
clearly  see  that  these  words  call  up  images  with  less  loss  of  time 
and  energy  than  their  later  learnt  synonyms.  Hence,  on  ac- 
count of  the  readiness  with  which  the  general  reader  recognizes 
their  power  of  denotation  and  of  connotation,  the  great  artists 
in  English  literature  have  given  them  the  preference/  Chaucer, 
Spenser,  Shakespeare,  Milton,  Bryant,  Longfellow,  Tennyson, 
not  to  mention  others,  have  used  in  certain  pieces  as  high  as 
eighty  per  cent  of  Saxon  words.  |^ 

Sound  and  Sense.— The  imitative  character  of  Saxon  words  is 
abundantly  obvious.  Perhaps  no  other  language  offers  so 
many  illustrations :  The  whistling  wind,  roaring  waves,  hiss- 
ing serpents,  buzzing  flies,  crashing  timbers,  rattling  hail. 
The  advantage  of  such  a  vocabulary  to  the  literary  artist 
who  wishes  to  describe  a  scene,  is  equally  obvious. 

Concreteness.— The  work  of  the  artist,  no  matter  what  be  the 
medium,  is  to  concrete  some  ideal.  Now  Saxon  words  are  con- 


jg  THE  WORD 

crete  and  specific ;  they  stand  for  things;  the  literary  artist, 
therefore,  selects  such  words  in  order  to  give  his  composition 
definiteness  and  vividness.  The  Saxon  mind  was  not  philosoph- 
ical, or  speculatively  disposed ;  it  demanded  not  abstractions  or 
generalizations.  What  it  did  demand  was  the  image,  the  real- 
ity and  the  definite  attributes  of  reality.  As  a  consequence  only 
a  very  small  percentage  of  Saxon  words  are  abstract  or  vague 
in  meaning. 

Tendency  to  Compounds. — The  Saxon  element  of  our  speech 
is  of  the  highest  importance,  because,  like  the  Teutonic  parent 
tree,  it  permits  compounds.  These  compounds  give  scope  to 
men  of  literary  genius  who  thereby  create  new  and  most  im- 
portant epithets.  New  compounds  flash  out  daily  from  the 
English  literary  mint,  and  they  are  soon  accepted  as  current 
coin.  The  Saxon  element  deserves  all  the  credit,  for  with  other 
languages  tributary  to  ours  such  compounding  is  not  possible. 
Our  strongest  epithets  such  as  '  death-dealing,'  '  soul-shrink- 
ing/ '  blood-curdling/  come  from  this  source. 

Syntactic  Structure. —  Saxon  words  are  not  only  the  prevail- 
ing element  in  our  literary  art ;  they  form  the  proper  basis  and 
main  structure  of  the  English  language.  They  supply  the  es- 
sential parts  of  speech :  the  article,  pronoun,  preposition,  nu- 
meral, auxiliary  verb,  conjunction  and  all  the  little  particles 
that  bind  words  into  sentences  and  thus  form  the  joints,  sinews 
and  ligaments  of  the  language.  Saxon  controls  the  gram- 
matical inflections,  the  terminations  of  noun,  of  verb,  and  of 
the  comparative  and  superlative,  and  the  entire  syntactic  struc- 
ture. It  makes  all  foreign  words  bend  to  its  laws  of  declen- 
sion and  conjugation ;  so  that  these  foreign  words  are  often 
abridged  and  simplified.  It  is  called  the  mortar  of  the  Eng- 
lish building. 

French  and  Latin  Elements.—  Next  to  the  Saxon  these  ele- 
ments are  the  largest  and  of  most  importance.  In  reality  there 


LATIN  AND  FRENCH  ELEMENTS  19 

are  two  classes  of  Latin  words,  one  class  coming  directly  from 
the  old  Roman;  the  other  class  coming  indirectly  from  the 
same  source  through  the  French  or  Norman.  The  first  class 
has  three  subdivisions  corresponding  to  the  same  number  of 
periods  in  the  history  of  the  language.  Concerning  the  oldest 
Latin  acquisition  Marsh  observes,  they  were  introduced  into 
England  at  the  time  of  the  Roman  conquest.  For  example, 
such  words  as  street,  cheese;  and  cestcr,  the  ending  of  the 
names  of  English  towns.  Christian  missionaries  brought  the 
next  acquisition  when  England  was  brought  under  the  domin- 
ion of  the  cross.  Latin  was  the  official  language  of  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  Church,  and  it  became  the  medium  of  general 
religious,  moral,  and  intellectual  instruction.  But  the  largest 
acquisition  direct  from  Roman  sources  was  made  during  the 
Humanist  and  Scholastic  periods  and  in  the  golden  age  of 
English  literature  when  classic  scholarship  in  Western  Europe 
unlocked  the  literary  treasures  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Since 
then  the  flood-gates  have  been  opened  by  such  lexicographers 
as  Johnson,  who  have  practically  anglicised  the  whole  Latin 
dictionary.  So  that  at  the  present  time  the  percentage  of 
Latin  is  far  in  excess  of  any  other  element. 

Value  of  this  Element. —  The  largest  demand  for  Latin 
words  comes  from  science,  philosophy  and  theology.  Scien- 
tific names  are  almost  invariably  either  Latin  or  Greek.  The 
enormous  growth  of  the  sciences  has  had  a  corresponding  ef- 
fect upon  Latin  terminology.  In  like  manner,  philosophy 
has  made  heavy  demands  upon  the  Latin  element.-  Philosoph- 
ical writing,  on  account  of  its  abstract  character,  has  little  use 
for  a  Saxon  vocabulary.  Not  more  than  twenty  per  cent  of 
the  words  employed  in  a  modern  philosophical  treatise  are 
Saxon.  The  definition  of  evolution  given  by  Herbert  Spen- 
cer and  the  amusing  translation  of  it  into  Saxon  may  be  taken 


20  THE  WORD 

as  a  fair  example  of  the  preference  which  must  be  had  for  Latin 
in  the  department  of  philosophy. 

The  Latin  Element  in  Literary  Art.— The  literary  artist 
employs  Latin  words  in  the  department  of  oratory.     The  os 
magna  sonans  requires  the  large  polysyllabic  words  such  as 
are  supplied  only  by  the  Latin.     A  word  which  in  itself  em- 
bodies the  most  important  part  of  the  idea  to  be  conveyed,  es- 
pecially when  that  idea  is  an  emotional  one,  may  often  with 
advantage  be  a  polysyllabic  word.     Thus  it  seems  more  forci- 
ble to  say,  "  it  is  magnificent/'  than  "  it  is  grand."     The  word 
vast   is   not   so   powerful   a   one   as   stupendous.     Calling   a 
thing  nasty  is  not  so  effective  as  calling  it  disgusting.     There 
seem  to  be  several  causes  for  this  exceptional  superiority  of 
certain  long  words.     We  may  ascribe   it  partly  to  the  fact 
that  a  voluminous,  mouth-filling  epithet  is,  by  its  very  size, 
suggestive  of  largeness  or  strength.     Witness   the   immense 
pomposity  of  sesquipedalian  verbiage;  and  when  great  power 
or  intensity  has  to  be  suggested,  this  association  of  ideas  aids 
the  effect.     A  further  cause  may  be  that  a  word  of  several 
syllables  admits  of  more  emphatic  articulation;  and,  as  em- 
phatic articulation  is  a  sign  of  emotion,  the  unusual  impres- 
siveness  of  the  thing  named  is  implied  in  it.     A  third  cause  is 
that  a  long  word  (of  which  the  latter  syllables  are  generally 
inferred  as  soon  as  the  first  are  spoken)   allows  the  hearers' 
consciousness  a  longer  time  to  dwell  upon  the  quality  predi- 
cated —  an  advantage  results  from  keeping  it  before  the  mind 
for  an  appreciable  time.     (Spencer,  Philosophy  of  Style.)     Not 
only  in  oratory,  but  often  in  history,  the  literary  artist  will  em- 
ploy the  long  word  for  the  reasons  indicated  by  Spencer.     For 
example,  the  far-resounding  periods  of  Macaulay  or  the  pom- 
pous style  of  Gibbon  —  a  style,  however,  more  or  less  in  keep- 
ing with  his  grand  theme  —  make  frequent  demands  upon  the 
polysyllabic   word   and   sesquipedalian   phrases.     Power  and 


LATIN  .-I XI)  1'KKXCII  ELEMENTS  21 

euphony  are  gained,  especially  the  latter,  owing  to  the  large 
number  of  vowel  sounds  in  Latin  words.  Sentence  rhythm, 
which  is  emphasized  in  the  higher  kinds  of  prose,  may  be  more 
easily  maintained  when  Latin  words  are  freely  interspersed 
with  the  Saxon;  for  the  consonants  of  the  latter  can  easily 
cause  a  harsh,  grating  effect  upon  the  ear,  if  too  many  Saxon 
words  are  put  in  juxtaposition. 

The  French  Element. —  What  has  been  said  concerning 
words  which  are  derived  directly  from  the  Latin,  applies  in 
almost  equal  measure  to  words  of  French,  Norman  or  Ro- 
mance origin.  The  indirect  reception  of  these  words  into 
English,  while  it  has  occasioned  some  changes  in  orthography 
and  pronunciation,  made  no  essential  change  in  their  nature. 
On  account  of  long  domestication,  these  French  and  Romance 
derivatives  are  more  closely  identified  with  our  language  than 
the  words  of  'direct  adoption  from  the  Latin.  Immediately 
after  the  Norman  conquest,  French  was  used  in  the  Court  and 
in  English  schools.  It  was  the  language  of  the  bar.  All  ed- 
ucated Englishmen  used  it.  French  literature  came  with  the 
conquest,  and  the  translation  of  this  literature  into  the  native 
speech  of  England,  its  naturalization  as  an  English  possession, 
was  the  first  movement  in  the  manifestation  of  a  new  literary 
life. 

Domestication  of  French  Words.— How  this  took  place  is  ex- 
plained by  Marsh :  "  the  want  of  a  sufficient  nomenclature  and 
the  convenience  of  rhythm  and  metre,  as  is  very  clearly  seen 
in  all  the  older  English  writings,  led  to  the  employment  of 
many  French  words;  and  in  an  age  when  French  was  quite 
as  familiar  to  an  educated  man  as  English,  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  French  words  would  be  introduced  almost  unconsciously 
and  with  no  objection  on  the  part  of  the  reader.  About  the 
middle  of  the  fourteenth  century,  schools  were  established  in 
which  English  was  both  taught  as  itself  an  object  of  study,  and 


22  THE  WORD 

employed  as  a  vehicle  of  instruction  in  other  languages  and 
disciplines.  Native  poets,  composing  original  works  in  their 
own  tongues,  would  naturally  use  the  poetic  diction  in  which 
the  productions  of  French  literature  had  been  clothed.  French 
literature  had  already  attained  a  culture  which  eminently  fit- 
ted it  for  literary  purposes,  and  made  it  a  storehouse  of  poetic 
wealth  in  words  as  well  as  in  thought.  This  was  a  convenient 
resource  to  writers  struggling  in  vain  to  find  adequate  expres- 
sion in  the  vocabulary  of  Saxon-English.  Thus  in  the  course 
of  a  single  generation  a  greater  number  of  French  words  were 
introduced  into  English  than  in  the  three  previous  centuries 
which  had  elapsed  since  the  Norman  Conquest.  The  newly 
adopted  words  were  not  indigenous,  yet  they  were  acknowl- 
edged and  felt  to  be  as  genuinely  English  as  those  whose 
descent  from  the  Gothic  stock  was  most  unequivocal." 

Other  Factors  at  Work. — It  would  be  a  mistake  to  suppose 
that  the  influx  of  French  words  was  due  to  literature  alone. 
All  the  arts  and  sciences  contributed  their  share.  The  blend- 
ing of  both  races  brought  to  England  the  French  lawyer,  arch- 
itect, painter,  glass-maker,  brass-founder  and  the  other  handi- 
craftsmen; they  brought  with  them  the  vocabularies  of  their 
respective  arts.  The  sciences,  too,  medicine,  physics,  geogra- 
phy, alchemy,  astrology,  all  of  which  became  known  to  Eng- 
land chiefly  through  French  channels,  added  numerous  spe- 
cific terms  to  the  existing  vocabulary;  and  these  words  soon 
passed  into  the  domain  of  common  life  and  were  incorporated 
into  the  general  tongue. 

Present  Percentages. —  Tt  is  difficult  to  get  a  correct  estimate 
of  the  foreign  elements  in  English.  In  literary  art  about 
40,000  words  are  employed,  of  which  at  least  sixty  per  cent 
are  Saxon.  According  to  the  latest  computation  there  are 
over  two  hundred  thousand  words  in  the  English  language. 


OTHER  ELEMENTS  23 

As  the  Saxon  element  is  almost  stationary  (only  a  few  old 
coins  are  recovered  by  such  artists  as  Tennyson  and  Brown- 
ing) there  must  be  a  vast  expansion  of  the  Latin  element. 
Other  languages,  with  the  possible  exception  of  the  Greek,  have 
not  appreciably  increased  their  contributions.  Of  our  spoken 
vocabulary  as  distinguished  from  the  dictionary  vocabulary,  it 
is  estimated  that  eighty  per  cent  is  of  Saxon  origin. 

Other  Languages.—  The  Greek  element,  strange  to  say,  has 
always  been  small  — •  possibly  five  per  cent.  Most  of  the 
Greek  words  are  found  in  the  terminology  of  science  and  phil- 
osophy. Other  languages,  Celtic,  Italian,  Arabic,  etc.,  all 
combined,  yield  scarcely  five  per  cent.  Here  is  another  strange 
fact :  the  process  of  anglicising  the  Celtic  vocabulary  never 
took  on  definite  shape;  scarcely  one  hundred  EngHsh  words 
now  in  use  can  be  traced  to  the  ancient  British.  The  Saxon 
and  the  Celt,  so  it  seems,  could  never  unite  or  amalgamate  even 
on  linguistic  lines,  although  bound  together  for  centuries  in 
the  closest  association. 

The  Supreme  Law  of  Selection. —  In  selecting  words  from 
the  various  sources,  native  and  foreign,  the  literary  artist  must 
keep  in  mind  the  effect  aimed  at,  and  choose  the  word  best  fit- 
ted to  that  end,  no  matter  what  its  origin  may  be.  While  as 
a  rule  the  native  element  has  the  preference  in  all  our  literary 
masterpieces,  such  preference  is  always  subordinate  to  the  de- 
mands of  the  art  itself. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  SENTENCE 
WORD  COMBINATIONS. 

The  Sentence. —  The  smallest  combination  of  words  making 
complete  sense  is  called  the  sentence.  After  selecting  the  right 
word,  the  artist  must  find  for  it  the  right  place  in  the  sen- 
tence. 

Places  of  Emphasis. —  In  every  sentence  there  are  two  such 
places  —  the  beginning,  and  the  end.  Important  words  should 
occupy  both  positions.  The  end  of  the  sentence  is  the  place 
of  greatest  emphasis.  One  illustration :  "  The  red  artillery 
flashed  far."  How  much  better  the  arrangement  of  the  poet : 
"  Far  flashed  the  red  artillery." 

Purpose  of  Artistic  Arrangement. —  Three  results  are. always 
secured  by  the  best  artists  in  the  marshalling  of  words  —  vari- 
ation, coherence,  and  rhythm  or  harmony  of  the  sentence. 
Variation  is  secured  by  mixing  long  and  short  sentences,  peri- 
odic and  loose.  The  following  rules  of  choice  are  laid  down : 
for  vigor  and  emphasis  use  the  short  sentence;  for  detail  and 
rhythm  use  long  sentences ;  to  hold  attention  and  interest  use 
the  periodic  sentence;  for  ease  and  naturalness  use  loose  sen- 
tences; for  point  and  antithesis  use  the  balanced  sentence. 

The  Short  Sentence. —  A  sentence  of  two  words  is  undoubt- 
edly short.  A  sentence  of  two  or  three  lines  is  classified  in 
the  same  manner;  whereas  a  larger  number  of  lines  would 


WORD  COMBINATIONS  2$ 

pass  over  into  the  category  of  a  long  sentence.  However,  a 
sentence  of  three  lines  is  too  long  if  one  line  will  answer  the 
purpose.  Short  sentences  are  usually  clear,  and  they  add  vi- 
vacity by  presenting  a  complete  thought  that  can  be  taken  in  at 
a  glance.  When  too  frequent,  they  break  the  main  thought  of 
the  paragraph  into  fragments  so  small  that  the  style  becomes 
jerky,  incoherent,  and  undignified.  Yet  in  certain  kinds  of 
composition  like  the  compendium,  chronicle,  text-book,  letter, 
diary,  short  sentences  are  preferred.  Wit  and  epigram  like- 
wise demand  them. 

The  Long  Sentence. —  Long  sentences  permit  the  expansion 
of  a  thought,  and  give  room  for  indispensable  qualifying  cir- 
cumstances. They  also  serve  to  group  related  facts,  and  thus 
establish  a  medium  between  the  paragraph  and  the  individual 
statement.  '  Certain  kinds  of  work  may,  therefore,  be  best  done 
by  long  sentences.  They  best  group  together  the  elements  of 
a  complex  thought ;  they  afford  opportunity  for  climax,  and 
give  weight  and  dignity.  On  the  other  hand,  long  sentences 
are  often  difficult  to  handle,  often  unduly  heavy  and  confused ; 
dependent  clauses  are  frequently  tangled  with  one  another,  so 
that  the  reader  can  scarcely  follow  the  thought.  Moreover, 
lightness  and  grace  are  not  easily  united  in  sentences  that  re- 
quire a  large  space  wherein  to  turn  themselves  (see  Mead, 
Rhetoric).  On  this  point  Minto  observes:  "No  small  ele- 
ment in  the  mechanical  art  of  sentence  building  is  the  adjust- 
ment of  the  length  of  the  sentence.  The  capacity  of  the  reader 
should  first  be  taken  Into  account;  a  sentence  intelligible  to 
one  reader  might  not  be  easily  grasped  by  another.  A  number 
of  long  and  complex  sentences  weary  and  confuse  the  modern 
reader.  It  is  true,  the  great  artists  "of  Greece  and  Rome  elab- 
orated their  periods,  but  the  average  power  of  attention  is  not 
so  high  as  in  those  ages,  and  hence  many  a  modern-  artist  fails 
by  imitating  classic  models  too  closely.  This  is  seen  partic- 


25  THE  SENTENCE 

ularly  in  the  case  of  the  modern  orator  who  uses  long  periods 
—  he  is  almost  always  a  failure,  though  he  may  possess  every 
other  requirement.  A  cursory  glance  at  our  modern  maga- 
zines will  show  that  the  long  sentence  is  no  longer  a  favorite 
in  English  prose." 

Periodic  Sentences. —  A  periodic  sentence  is  one  in  which  the 
sense  is  suspended  until  the  end  is  reached.  Since  the  periodic 
structure  makes  possible  a  suspension  of  the  most  important 
elements  of  the  sentence,  this  form  is  peculiarly  adapted  to 
forcible  writing.  One  can  thus  stimulate  the  reader's  at- 
tention throughout  the  sentence,  and  present  the  weightiest 
thought  at  the  moment  when  he  is  best  prepared  to  receive  it. 
According  to  Blair  "  This  is  the  most  pompous,  musical  and 
oratorical  manner  of  composing:  Cicero  abounds  with  such 
sentences."  Leading  English  orators  like  Burke  or  Webster, 
have  imitated  Cicero.  The  periodic  sentence  is  secured  "  by 
bringing  on  predicates  before  what  they  are  predicated  of; 
qualifications  before  what  they  qualify;  by  disposing  of  de- 
scriptive adjuncts,  results,  conditions  and  alternatives,  at  the 
outset."  In  this  manner  the  sentence  is  raised  to  the  highest 
degree  of  unity ;  and  suspense,  provided  thought  be  not  unduly 
retarded,  contributes  to  force.  Moreover,  an  air  of  gravity 
and  dignity  is  given  to  the  composition.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  disadvantages  of  the  periodic  sentence  are  obvious:  they 
are  apt  to  be  too  long,  and,  if  frequently  used,  they  cause  im- 
patience and  weariness,  and  are  difficult  to  follow.  The  reader 
or  hearer  is  apt  to  lose  the  beginning  before  he  arrives  at  the 
end.  No  critic  has  expressed  more  clearly  the  defects  of  a 
periodic  or  long  sentence  than  De  Quincey:  "  Such  a  sentence, 
for  example,  begins  with  a  series  of  ifs;  perhaps  a  dozen  lines 
are  occupied  with  expanding  the  conditions  under  which  some- 
thing is  affirmed  or  denied ;  here  you  cannot  dismiss  and  have 
done  with  the  ideas  as  you  go  along;  all  is-  hypothetic;  all  is 


WORD  COMBINATIONS  2*J 

suspended  in  the  air.  The  conditions  are  not  fully  to  be  under- 
stood until  you  are  acquainted  with  the  dependency ;  you  must 
give  separate  attention  to  each  clause  of  this  complex  hypothe- 
sis, and  yet,  having  done  that  by  a  painful  effort,  you  have  done 
nothing  at  all;  for  you  must  exercise  a  reacting  attention 
through  the  corresponding  latter  section,  in  order  to  follow 
out  its  relations  to  all  parts  of  the  hypothesis  which  sustained 
it.  In  fact,  under  the  rude,  yet  also  artificial  character  of  this 
style,  each  separate  monster  period  is  a  vast  arch,  which,  not 
receiving  its  keystone,  not  being  locked  into  self-supporting 
cohesion  until  you  reach  its  close,  imposes  of  necessity  upon 
the  unhappy  reader  all  the  superincumbent  mass  of  its  power- 
ful weight  through  the  main  process  of  its  construction." 
The  labyrinthian  complexities  of  which  De  Quincey  complains, 
are  fast  dying  out  of  modern  prose.  While  the  periodic  sen- 
tence is  still  used,  it  now  rarely  includes  more  than  four  or 
five  lines. 

The  Loose  Sentence. —  The  genius  of  the  English  language 
calls  for  the  loose  sentence.  And  this  kind  must  be  of  fre- 
quent occurrence  since  our  language  does  not  permit  the  in- 
versions requisite  for  the  constant  practice  of  suspending  the 
sense.  The  loose  sentence  is  one  which  may  be  complete  in 
meaning  at  one  or  several  points  before  the  end.  The  element 
of  suspense  is  wanting;  the  meaning  is  gathered  piece  by 
piece.  Loose  sentences,  says  Quackenbos,  fulfil  their  function 
as  the  instruments  of  familiar  expression,  and  are  free  from 
the  stiffness  that  characterizes  uniform  periods.  They  are 
not  necessarily  languid  or  unmusical;  many  of  the  best  sen- 
tences in  English  literature  are  loose.  The  reason  why  loose 
sentences  are  suited  to  the  genius  of  the  English  language  is 
pointed  out  by  Greenough :  "  An  inflected  language  generally 
has  a  tendency  to  arrange  ideas  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
main  predicate  is  withheld  until  all  the  modifications  have  been 


2g  THE  SENTENCE 

given,  and  the  whole  thought,  with  all  its  details  is  thus  pre- 
sented at  once  in  an  organized  body."  Hence,  the  predomi- 
nance of  the  periodic  style  in  such  languages;  but  not  so  in 
English,  where  prepositions  take  the  place  of  inflections.  Prep- 
ositions imply  the  loose  construction  and  the  loose  sentence. 
If  this  grammatical  reason  did  not  exist,  the  literary  artist 
would  still  need  the  loose  sentence  in  order  to  vary  his  ex- 
pression as  well  as  for  ease  and  naturalness. 

The  Balanced  Sentence. —  The  balanced  sentence  is  one  in 
which  the  words  and  phrases  of  one  part  correspond  in  form 
and  in  position  with  those  of  another  part.  On  this  point  of 
balance,  Hill  observes,  "  The  balance  is  greater  or  less,  ac- 
cording as  the  correspondence  is  more  or  less  exact,  and 
according  as  it  extends  to  a  larger  or  smaller  part  of  the  sen- 
tence." Balanced  sentences  often  contain  antithetical  words 
or  clauses;  but  even  when  they  do  not,  their  advantages  and 
disadvantages  are  similar  to  those  of  antithesis.  Balance 
gives  pleasure  because  it  is  an  expression  of  symmetry  —  one 
of  the  fundamental  principles  of  art.  It  captivates  the  ear  and 
helps  to  impress  the  memory  and  fix  the  attention.  Moreover, 
it  adds  clearness  and  simplicity  to  the  style  by  facilitating  the 
comparison  of  things  that  are  to  be  compared.  Likewise,  it 
makes  the  style  impressive.  According  to  Bain,  the  superior 
impressiveness  of  the  balanced  form  can  be  explained  in  this 
fashion :  when  a  second  statement  runs  in  the  same  form  as 
one  immediately  preceding,  the  mind  is  partly  relieved  from 
the  effort  needed  to  follow  the  new  statement,  and  thus  is  bet- 
ter prepared  to  feel  the  power  of  the  thought  itself.  However, 
excessive  use  of  the  balanced  sentence  imparts  to  composition 
an  affected  and  artificial  character;  for  example,  the  style 
of  Johnson  or  Macaulay.  These  styles  are  often  stilted,  stiff 
and  unnatural  because  of  the  balanced  sentence.  Two  rules 
govern  its  use.  In  the  first  place,  it  should  be  used  only  when 


WORD  COMBINATIONS  29 

there  is  a  call  for  it  in  the  nature  of  the  thought  —  that  is, 
when  there  is  a  real  correspondence  between  the  meanings  of 
the  clauses.  In  the  second  place,  it  must  always  be  moder- 
ately employed,  even  when  the  sense  or  meaning  calls  for  it, 
because  it  is  a  general  law  that  all  strong  effects,  of  which  bal- 
ance is  one,  should  be  used  with  moderation. 

A  General  Rule.—  The  literary  artist  has  all  the  foregoing 
kinds  of  sentence  from  which  to  choose.  Assuming  that  he 
is  a  master  in  the  art,  he  will  not  pick  any  one  kind  of  sen- 
tence to  the  exclusion  of  the  other  kinds  —  he  will  be  governed 
by  the  law  of  variation.  Herbert  Spencer  thus  describes  the 
perfect  artist :  "  Now  he  will  be  rhythmical  and  now  irregular ; 
here  his  language  will  be  plain  and  there  ornate ;  sometimes  his 
sentence  will  be  balanced  and  at  other  times  unsymmetrical ; 
for  a  while  there  will  be  considerable  sameness,  and  then  again 
great  variety.  His  mode  of  expression  naturally  responding 
to  his  state  of  feeling,  there  will  flow  from  his  pen  a  composi- 
tion changing  to  the  same  degree  that  the  aspects  of  his 
subject  change;  and  his  work  will  present  to  the  reader  that 
variety  needful  to  prevent  continuous  exertion  of  the  same 
faculties." 

Coherence  of  the  Sentence. —  Coherence  is  the  law  of  inter- 
nal arrangement.  The  relation  of  each  part  of  the  sentence 
to  other  parts  is  thereby  made  clear  and  unmistakable.  This 
law  implies  that  a  sentence  should  be  a  unit  both  in  thought 
and  in  expression.  There  may  be  several  ideas  expressed,  but 
they  should  be  homogeneous  and  form  a  whole  or  a  unit. 
Blair  gives  the  following  rules  to  secure  coherence:  (i)  In 
the  course  of  the  same  sentence  do  not  shift  the  scene.  (2) 
Avoid  crowding  the  sentence  with  heterogeneous  subjects. 
(3)  Avoid  excess  of  parenthetical  clauses.  (4)  Do  not  add 
members  after  a  full  and  perfect  close.  In  all  styles  of  compo- 


30  THE  SENTENCE 

sition  it  is  often  requisite  to  give  in  the  same  sentence  several 
distinct  facts;  in  which  case,  the  only  guiding  consideration 
is  comparative  closeness  of  relationship.  Coherence  is  of 
three  kinds.  First,  in  the  order  of  words:  the  rule  is,  all 
words  closely  related  in  thought,  should  be  placed  together. 
Secondly,  in  the  order  of  phrases :  phrases  similar  in  signifi- 
cance should  be  similar  in  form  and  length.  Thirdly,  in  rela- 
tion to  connectives:  connectives  should  denote  with  precision 
the  relation  of  words  and  phrases  to  the  context.  The  literary 
artist  needs  a  most  precise  knowledge  of  connectives ;  much  of 
the  loose,  vague  and  unsatisfactory  writing  of  the  present  time 
is  due  to  ignorance  regarding  connectives. 

Harmony  of  the  Sentence. —  Two  things  are  aimed  at  — 
agreeable  modulation,  and  the  sound  so  ordered  as  to  become 
expressive  of  the  sense.  Harmony  depends  upon  the  selec- 
tion and  collocation  of  words.  The  grating  consonant  must 
he  mixed  with  the  smooth  liquid.  On  this  point  Blair  ob- 
serves :  "  It  is  evident  that  words  are  most  agreeable  to  the  ear 
which  are  composed  of  smooth  and  liquid  sounds,  where  there 
is  a  proper  intermixture  of  vowels  and  consonants;  without 
too  many  harsh  consonants  rubbing  against  each  other ;  or  too 
many  open  vowels  in  succession,  to  cause  a  hiatus  or  disagree- 
able opening  of  the  mouth.  It  may  always  be  assumed  as  a 
principle,  that  whatever  sounds  are  difficult  in  pronunciation, 
are,  in  the  same  proportion,  harsh  and  painful  to  the  ear. 
Vowels  give  softness,  consonants  strengthen  the  sound  of 
words.  The  music  of  language  requires  a  just  proportion  of 
both.  As  to  words,  long  words  are  commonly  more  agreeable 
to  the  ear  than  monosyllables  —  they  please  it  by  the  succes- 
sion of  sounds  which  they  present  to  it.  Among  words  of 
any  length  those  are  the  most  musical  which  present  an  inter- 
mixture of  long  and  short  syllables.  A  third  consideration  is 
the  disposition  of  words  in  a  sentence;  for,  let  the  words  them- 


WORD  COMBINATIONS  31 

selves  be  ever  so  well  chosen  and  well  sounding,  yet  if  they  be 
ill-disposed,  the  music  of  the  sentence  is  utterly  lost." 

Harmony  in  Sentence-Structure. —  First  of  all,  the  distribu- 
tion of  the  several  members  is  to  be  carefully  attended  to.  It 
is  of  importance  to  observe  that  whatever  is  easy  and  agree- 
able to  the  organs  of  speech,  always  sounds  grateful  to  the 
ear.  While  a  period  is  going  on,  the  termination  of  each  of 
its  members  forms  a  pause  or  rest  for  pronunciation ;  and 
these  rests  should  be  so  distributed  as  to  make  easy  the  course 
of  the  breathing,  and,  at  the  same  time,  should  fall  at  such 
distances  as  to  bear  a  certain  musical  proportion  to  each 
other.  The  next  thing  which  deserves  attention  is  the  close 
or  cadence  of  the  whole  sentence,  which,  as  it  is  always  the 
part  most  sensible  to  the  ear,  demands  the  greatest  care.  Quin- 
tilian  writes :  "  Let  there  be  nothing  harsh  or  abrupt  in  the 
conclusion  of  the  sentence,  for  on  that  conclusion  the  mind 
pauses  and  rests.  This  is  the  most  material  part  in  the  struc- 
ture of  discourse.  Here  everyone  expects  to  be  gratified." 
Though  attention  to  the  music  of  sentences  must  not  be  neg- 
lected, yet  it  must  be  kept  within  proper  bounds^  for  all  ap- 
pearances of  affectation  are  disagreeable.  It  may  degenerate 
into  childish  and  puerile  ornament,  especially  when  there  is  no 
equation  between  sound  and  sense.  The  current  of  sound 
ought  to  be  adapted  to  the  tenor  of  the  composition.  Sentences 
constructed  with  a  fulness  and  swell  are  fitted  to  clothe  ideas 
important,  magnificently  sedate.  But  manifestly,  it  would  be 
absurd  to  use  such  a  swell  and  cadence  in  any  ordinary  de- 
scription or  exposition  of  a  theme.  Themes  that  evoke  intense 
passion  or  emotion  require  a  corresponding  sound  of  words. 
But  ordinary  artistic  delicacy  will  see  that  there  must  always 
be  an  affinity  between  the  sound  and  the  sense. 

How  the  Artist  is  Trained. —  The  best  rule  to  follow  in 
order  to  master  the  music  and  harmony  of  the  sentence  is  to 


~2  THE  SENTENCE 

read  aloud  the  best  models  of  prose.  The  custom  of  reading 
aloud  will  train  the  ear  to  sentence-rhythm ;  it  imprints  upon  the 
mind  tlie  correct  forms  of  the  sentence;  so  that  when  one 
comes  to  write,  one  will  instinctively  fill  out  these  forms.  The 
ear  is  attuned  to  sentence  rhythm  as  it  is  attuned  to  the  airs 
of  music.  The  practice  of  reading  aloud  is  quite  common  in 
England  —  not  so  common  in  America.  It  is  said  of  Newman, 
our  greatest  master  of  prose,  that  he  read  aloud,  every  day, 
a  chapter  of  Cicero  in  order  to  train  his  ear  to  sentence-rhythm. 
And  the  literary  artist  who  would  produce  an  English  prose 
masterpiece,  cannot  do  better  than  train  with  such  models  as 
Cicero,  Newman,  Arnold,  Ruskin,  Macaulay,  reading  aloud 
their  matchless  prose  music  and  becoming  familiar  not  only 
with  sentence  rhythm  and  harmony,  but  with  their  matchless 
art  in  constructing  and  employing  the  various  kinds  of  sen- 
tence. These  immortal  writers  training  the  ear  to  music,  the 
eye  to  symmetry  and  proportion,  the  mind  to  logical  sequence, 
and  the  aesthetic  sense  to  a  keen  appreciation  of  beauty  are 
infallible  guides  to  the  "  promised  land." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  PARAGRAPH 

Definition. —  After  mastering  the  various  kinds  of  sentence, 
the  literary  artist  proceeds  to  consider  their  smallest  combin- 
ation known  as  the  paragraph.  Like  the  sentence,  it  is  a  unit, 
but  a  larger  unit,  in  the  composition.  As  a  unit  it  is  marked 
off  by  indentation;  and,  as  a  component  part  of  the  compo- 
sition —  a  link  in  the  chain  — ,it  hints  in  some  way  at  what 
has  preceded  it  and  foreshadows  what  is  to  come.  It  is  de- 
fined as  a  group  of  sentences  clustering  around  a  central  idea 
or  topic  which  is  subordinate  to  the  main  theme  of  the  compo- 
sition. The  paragraph  rests  the  eye  by  breaking  the  text; 
but  its  main  function  is  to  mark- and  elaborate  the  progressive 
changes  in  the  thought.  It  helps  the  reader  to  follow  a  writer 
step  by  step. 

Rules  of  Construction. —  First,  let  the  opening  sentence  indi- 
cate the  subject  of  the  paragraph.  As  a  rule,  each  new  para- 
graph introduces  and  finishes  a  definite  topic;  and  this  topic 
ought  to  be  indicated  at  the  outset.  Secondly,  make  the  open- 
ing sentence  short.  This  is  done  to  secure  the  attention  and 
interest  of  the  reader.  In  the  beginning  the  reader  is  not 
willing  to  wind  through  the  mazes  of  the  long  sentence. 
Thirdly,  let  the  bearing  of  each  sentence  on  what  precedes  be 
clear  and  positive.  This  rule  simply  insists  upon  logical  and 
careful  development.  Fourthly,  give  smooth  connection  to 
the  various  sentences  comprised  in  the  paragraph.  Smooth 
connection  is  one  of  the  graces  of  artistic  writing. 

33 


THE  PARAGRAPH 

Principles  Applied.—  The  principles  applied  in  the  paragraph 
are  precisely  the  same  as  those  applied  in  the  sentence.     The 
same  unity,  coherence  and  harmony  are  demanded.     There  is 
precisely  the  same  organization.     Unity  in  a  paragraph  im- 
plies a  sustained  purpose  and  forbids  digression  and  irrelevant 
matter.     The  most  common  mistake  with  reference  to  unity  is 
to  run  into  one  paragraph  what  should  be  divided  into  two 
or  more.     Even  the  best  writers  at  times  violate  this  rule ;  they 
introduce  unnecessary  digressions  quite  distinct  from  any  le- 
gitimate development  of  the  specific  topic.     Coherence  of  the 
paragraph   implies  consecutive  arrangement,    so  that  related 
ideas  are  kept  as  close  together  as  possible:  in  other  words, 
proximity  is  governed  by  affinity  of  ideas.     When  an  idea  is 
put  forward  in  the  paragraph,  the  way  to  stamp  it  on  the 
mind  is  to  give  everything  connected  with  it  —  iterations,  ex- 
amples, illustrations  and  proofs  —  before  passing  to  another 
topic.     The  nature  of  the  subject  and  the  style  of  the  compo- 
sition usually  dictate  a  plan  in  the  bringing  forward  of  suc- 
cessive particles.     It  constantly  happens  that   a  topic   is   re- 
lated to  several  others,  and  as  composition  can  move  in  only 
one  line  it  may  be  impossible  to  bring  a  paragraph  into  entire 
accordance  with  the  law.     In  such    cases  we  must  be  content 
to  study  the  greatest  proximity  of  related  topics  on  the  whole 
(see  Bain,  Rhetoric  Part  I).     The  harmony  of  a  paragraph 
applies  both  to  thought-development  and  to  sentence-colloca- 
tion.    The  harmonious  development  of  thought  excludes  all 
breaks  or  jarring  transitions :  it  is  secured  by  a  rigorous  ap- 
plication of  logic.     Like  the  collocation  of  words  in  a  sen- 
tence, the  collocation  of  sentences  in  a  paragraph  should  be 
made  with  a  view  to  harmony.     It  depends  on  a  happy  ad- 
mixture of  the  various  kinds  of  sentence;  it  depends  on  such 
a  gradation  of  sentence  as  will  bring  the  climax  at  the  close  of 
the  paragraph.     Inasmuch  as  harmony  is  a  constant  quality 


THE  PARAGRAPH  35 

of  good  style,  its  application  to  the  paragraph  becomes  ob- 
vious. 

Method. —  Paragraphs,  says  Barrett  Wendell,  are  prevised, 
that  is,  we  arrange  beforehand  the  qualities  of  a  paragraph  - 
its  length,  the  idea  it  will  contain,  the  prominence  it  will  have 
in  the  composition ;  whereas,  in  the  case  of  sentences  we  revise 
them  after  they  are  written,  and  apply  then  the  principles  of 
criticism.  Sentences  are  seldom  deliberately  planned ;  they 
are  written  first  and  then  revised.  Inasmuch  as  paragraphs 
are  considerable  portions  of  the  complete  composition,  their 
prevision  becomes  a  part  of  the  general  outline. 

*  ^ 

The  Number  of  Sentences. —  A  paragraph  may  consist  of  a 
single  sentence  only,  but- commonly  contains  several.  Says 
Mead:  "A. single  paragraph  is  often  a  complete  article  in 
miniature,  since  the  paragraph  may  treat  a  topic  so  narrow 
that  the  entife  discussion  will  comprise  but  a  few  sentences." 
In  a  long  article  a  group  of  paragraphs  sometimes  discusses 
with  considerable  fulness  a  single  topic  subordinate  to  the 
main  theme;  and  this  group  can  be  regarded  as  an  article 
within  an  article.  Extremes  of  length  or  brevity  are  in  any 
case  to  be  avoided.  Paragraphs  that  are  too  long  require  too 
much  attention  from  the  reader ;  paragraphs  that  are  too  short 
subdivide  the  thought  unduly  and  make  obscure  the  relations 
of  the  larger  parts  of  the  discourse.  For  indicating  the  topic 
and  giving  it  some  application,  there  should  be  at  least  a  half 
dozen  sentences  in  each  paragraph. 

The  Divisions  of  the  Paragraph. —  Paragraphs  admit  of 
several  divisions.  First,  the  long  and  short;  these  are  inter- 
changed so  as  to  avoid  monotony.  The  length  of  the  para- 
graph is  largely  determined  by  the  subject  matter  of  the  com- 
position. As  Professor  Genung  writes :  "  There  is  no  fixed 


~6  THE  PARAGRAPH 

measurement,  but  roughly  speaking,  less  than  a  hundred  words 
make  a  short  paragraph;  more  than  three  hundred  words, 
a  long  one."  The  use  of  short  or  long  paragraphs  is  deter- 
mined by  the  effect  we  wish  to  have.  A  solid,  heavy  and 
serious  subject  is  best  treated  in  the  long  paragraph.  A  light, 
racy  topic  demands  the  short  paragraph.  A  second  division 
is  the  isolated  and  linked  paragraph.  The  isolated  form  is 
comparatively  modern,  but  its  use  is  growing  rapidly  in  the 
daily  and  weekly  newspapers  and  in  the  magazines.  The  iso- 
lated paragraph  is  short,  varying  in  length  from  two  or  three 
lines  to  a  dozen  —  rarely  more.  It  deals  with  every  conceiv- 
able subject.  It  is  a  whole  composition  in  miniature.  The 
reading  public  take  very  kindly  to  this  paragraph.  Usually 
a  column  or  two  on  the  editorial  page  of  our  daily  and  weekly 
newspapers  will  contain  no  other  kind  of  writing.  Telegraphic 
reports  are  now  finding  the  same  channel,  while  book-reviews 
in  the  very  best  magazines  employ  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  linked  paragraph  is  found  in  more  elaborate  compositions. 
As  parts  of  a  complete  composition  they  require  somewhat  dif- 
ferent construction  from  independent  or  isolated  paragraphs. 
Each  paragraph  in  the  series  should  indicate  some  relationship 
with  its  neighbors  —  there  should  be  an  unbroken  thread  bind- 
ing all  together. 

Paragraph  Linking. —  This  is  accomplished  in  various  ways  : 
first,  by  carrying  on  an  important  word  or  phrase  from  one 
paragraph  to  the  following  —  a  favorite  method  with  Matthew 
Arnold.  Second,  by  carrying  on  a  very  brief  summary  of  the 
thought  developed  in  the  preceding  paragraph  —  a  favorite 
method  of  Newman.  It  gives  to  the  thought-sequence  pecul- 
iar power  and  dignity  as  well  as  clearness.  Third,  by  letting 
the  last  sentence  of  the  paragraph  suggest  the  topic  of  the  fol- 
lowing paragraph;  this  is  the  ordinary  method  of  linking 
paragraphs. 


THE  PARAGRAPH  ^ 

Sentence  Linking  in  the  Paragraph. —  There  are  several  rules 
which  apply  to  sentence-linking :  first,  the  use  of  sentence-echo ; 
the  opening  clause  of  one  sentence  echoes  the  thought  and 
wording  of  the  last  clause  of  the  preceding  sentence.  Second, 
by  repeating  the  subject  of  the  first  sentence  in  the  succeed- 
ing sentences.  This  method  is  very  effective  in  oratory;  it 
is  very  emphatic  if  the  same  word  is  employed  in  the  repe- 
tition. But  in  all  kinds  of  literary  art  the  subject  is  repeated 
by  means  of  the  pronoun  or  synonyms  or  paraphrase  of  mean- 
ing. A  third  method,  by  repeating  the  subject  and  pred- 
icate, which  is  still  more  emphatic  and  often  employed  in  such 
parts  of  the  oration  as  the  exhortation.  However,  one  must 
guard  against  the  stilted  style  which  results  from  too  much 
repetition  of  this  kind.  Finally,  sentences  are  linked  by 
means  of  connectives.  Concerning  their  right  use,  Coleridge 
observes :  "  A  close  reasoner  and  a  good  writer  is  generally 
known  by  his  pertinent  use  of  connectives.  Read  a  page  of 
Johnson ;  you  cannot  alter  one  conjunction  without  spoiling 
the  sense.  It  is  a  linked  strain  throughout."  Among  con- 
nectives, the  most  important  are  the  cumulative  conjunctions. 

The  Cumulative  Conjunction. —  It  is  defined  as  one  which 
adds  a  new  statement  to  preceding  statements  of  the  same 
class,  and  having  the  same  bearing  upon  the  topic  of  the 
paragraph.  There  are  more  than  thirty  of  these  in  our 
language.  Those  of  the  first  rank  are,  and,  but,  for,  yet,  so, 
moreover;  they  are  the  most  beautiful  connectives  in  Eng- 
lish. And  is  the  favorite  Biblical  connective;  the  best  prose 
writers  often  use  it  at  the  beginning  of  a  sentence.  Yet  and 
for  as  initial  particles  for  the  paragraph  often  appear  in  the 
best  prose.  Moreover  is  the  favorite  connective  of  Newman ; 
and  in  its  usage  he  is  now  widely  copied.  Besides  these  cu- 
mulatives  of  the  first  rank,  we  employ  such  single  words  as 
also,  yea,  likewise,  similarly,  first,  secondly,  further,  further- 


~g  THE  PARAGRAPH 

more,  etc. ;  and  such  combinations  as  once  more,  in  like  man- 
ner, yet  another,  then  too,  add  to  this.  Ruskin  seems  to  pre- 
fer in  like  manner;  while  Herbert  Spencer  gives  preference  to 
once  more.  So  also  makes  a  happy  paragraph  transition.  Fa- 
miliarity with  prose  masterpieces  is  the  best  teacher  regarding 
the  right  use  of  connectives.  The  literary  artist  needs  to  be 
familiar  with  these  words  above  all  others  in  the  language. 
They  are  essential  to  consecutive  writing,  for  they  are  the 
hinges  and  joints  of  paragraph  building.  They  are  subdi- 
vided into  Adversative,  such  as  but,  notwithstanding;  Illative, 
indicating  effect  or  consequence,  the  use  of  reasoning  or  argu- 
ment, such  as  therefore,  hence,  thus,  accordingly;  Subordinate, 
tying  a  subordinate  clause  or  sentence  to  its  principal,  such  as 
if,  provided  that,  when.  There  are  other  subdivisions  of 
minor  importance.  "  On  the  right  use  of  connectives,"  says 
Bain,  "  the  coherence  of  paragraphs  depends."  As  in  the  con- 
struction of  sentences,  so  in  the  construction  of  paragraphs, 
they  are  essential  in  dove-tailing  one's  work.  Much  art  is 
shown  in  their  use.  Their  number  is  so  large  as  to  give  all  the 
necessary  connection  to  English  composition.  On  the  abuse 
of  particles,  Hill  observes :  "  The  judicious  use  of  connective 
particles  promotes  clearness."  But  useful  as  is  a  connective 
particle  that  expresses  a  real  connection  of  thought,  one  that 
serves  no  purpose  is  worse  than  useless,  and  one  used  for  an 
unsuitable  purpose  leads  astray.  But  and  and  are  frequent  of- 
fenders in  both  ways.  They  are  properly  used  to  connect 
words  or  clauses  closely  related  in  meaning  and  similar  in  con- 
struction. 

A  composition  should  never  begin  with  but  or  with  and;  for 
if  nothing  precedes  the  conjunction,  there  is  nothing  for  it  to 
connect  with  what  follows.  A  paragraph  may  so  begin  when 
there  is  real  opposition  or  real  connection  between  two  para- 
graphs as  wholes ;  but  usually  a  new  paragraph  indicates  a 
break  in  the  sense  too  important  to  be  bridged  by  a  conjunction. 


THE  PARAGRAPH  39 

Method  of  Study. —  The  artist  learns  by  having  the  best 
models  before  him  in  his  studio.  The  paragraph  should  be 
studied  in  the  best  prose  authors  —  Arnold,  Newman,  Ruskin, 
Macaulay,  George  Eliot,  Herbert  Spencer.  Analyze  their 
work ;  lay  bare  the  mechanism  of  their  paragraph  —  its  skele- 
ton. This  may  be  done  mentally  while  reading,  for  one  rule 
of  right  reading  is  to  make  mentally  a  synthesis  of  the  plot 
or  plan  as  you  read.  Again,  before  writing  a  paragraph, 
prepare  a  skeleton  in  like  manner ;  that  is,  arrange  the  leading 
topic  and  the  connected  items  of  thought.  "  All  orderly  and 
artistic  work,"  says  Pater,  "  presupposes  a  careful  outline  be- 
forehand, not  only  of  the  whole  composition,  but  of  each  para- 
graph." The  writer  who  does  not  follow  such  an  outline,  will 
be  a  loose  and  slovenly  workman.  No  man  builds  without  a 
plan  for  each  room;  no  man  should  write  without  a  similar 
guide. 


CHAPTER  vf 

THE  COMPLETE  COMPOSITION 

The  Ideal  Realized. —  The  maxim  of  the  ancients  applies 
here  — //««•  coronal  opus:  the  end  crowns  the  work.  The 
word,  the  sentence,  the  paragraph,  are  but  steps  toward  this 
goal.  The  composition  as  a  whole  is  the  grand  aim  of  the 
writer,  for  in  it  his  ideal  is  concreted,  realized.  The  general 
effect  of  the  whole  composition  ought  to  be  like  the  general 
effect  of  a  complete  building  or  painting  or  piece  of  statuary. 
The  quality  and  merit  of  the  art  are  thereby  determined.  As 
a  work  of  art,  a  composition  when  complete  possesses  unity, 
harmony,  balance,  proportion.  These  principles  are  the  very 
alphabet  of  art;  they  make  an  important  demand  upon  the 
artist. 

A  Well  Defined  Plan.—  The  first  demand  in  all  kinds  of 
literary  art  is  a  well  defined  plan  for  the  composition.  The 
writer  who  works  without  a  plan,  cannot  escape  chaos  and 
confusion;  whereas  clearness  is  the  first  requisite  of  all  good 
writing.  It  is  called  the  intellectual  quality  of  style  because 
the  intellect  elaborates  the  plan  of  the  composition ;  the  intellect 
discovers  at  once  the  presence  or  absence  of  a  plan  in  writing. 

Evolution  of  a  Plan. —  To  work  out  a  plan  for  a  composition 
one  must  carefully  survey  the  subject  and  reduce  one's  ideas 
to  order.  There  are  various  methods  employed.  Some  prefer 
to  write  headings,  giving  form  to  ideas  already  clear,  after- 
wards combining  and  correcting  them.  This  is  called  the 
suggestive  method,  or,  "  thinking  with  the  pen."  One  idea 

40 


THE  COMPLETE  COMPOSITION  41 

set  down  will  suggest  another  until  the  paragraph  is  complete. 
Some  writers  cannot  think  without  the  aid  of  the  pen.  Other 
writers  prefer  to  revolve  the  subject  in  their  minds  until  the 
plan  is  fully  matured.  They  wait  for  the  thought  to  "  work 
itself  out,"  before  penning  a  line.  But  whatever  be  the  method, 
a  plan  must  precede  clearness  of  expression.  Artists  of  the 
first  rank,  such  as  Newman,  Arnold,  Ruskin,  always  outline 
their  work.  The  same  rule  applies  to  verse  as  well  as  to  prose. 
Perhaps  the  most  practical  method  to  follow  is  to  start  with 
the  outline  that  first  suggests  itself.  As  the  theme  is  developed, 
both  plan  and  composition  may  be  altered  or  corrected.  The 
best  writers  are  hardly  ever  satisfied  with  the  first  draught. 
For  example,  Daniel  Webster  outlined  several  times  his  oration 
on  the  Pilgrim  Fathers ;  Newman  planned  his  Apologia  four 
times  and  then  was  not  satisfied  with  the  final  draught.  Car- 
lyle's  "  Life  of  Frederick  the  Great "  underwent  several 
revisions.  A  plan  like  a  composition  improves  by  careful  re- 
view ;  but  the  first  rough  sketch,  though  it  should  lack  com- 
pleteness, ought  to  have  coherence  and  unity  —  there  should 
be  some  central  idea  round  which  all  that  is  written  clusters. 

Qualities  of  a  Complete  Composition. —  As  a  work  of  art, 
a  complete  composition  is  characterized  by  three  qualities,  an 
intellectual  quality,  an  emotional  quality,  an  aesthetic  quality. 
The  first  quality  is  represented  by  the  word  clearness;  the  sec- 
ond, by  force;  the  third,  by  elegance.  Each  one  of  these  qual- 
ities deserves  special  notice. 

Clearness. —  This  quality  is  predicated  of  a  composition 
when  its  plan  is  well  defined  and  when  the  writing  itself  appeals 
to  the  average  intellect.  The  best  art  always  makes  the  widest 
appeal.  This  is  true  of  sculpture,  painting,  architecture  and 
music  as  well  as  the  art  of  letters.  In  order  to  make  the  widest 
appeal  the  literary  artist  must  come  down  to  the  level  of  the 


42  THE  COMPLETE  COMPOSITION 

average  intellect  to  be  intelligible  to  the  average  reader.  The 
maxim  of  Aristotle  applies  here :  "  Think  the  thoughts  of 
the  wise,  but  use  the  language  of  the  simple."  Plainness  and 
simplicity  of  language  are  gained  only  by  long  practice  in 
picking  and  choosing  words.  Once  more  we  may  emphasize 
the  native  element  of  our  speech:  the  Saxon  word  is  always 
understood ;  it  makes  the  widest  appeal.  In  his  lectures  on 
writing  English,  Arlo  Bates  has  this  to  say  of  clearness,  and 
the  means  of  attaining  it : 

"  Clearness  is  most  obviously  associated  with  the  word  and  the 
structure.  If  an  author  has  carefully  considered  his  work  and  the 
unity  of  his  composition ;  if  he  has  massed  it  properly  in  parts  and 
as  a  whole,  if  he  has  looked  well  to  its  coherence  —  it  is  hardly 
possible  that  he  should  fail  of  being  readily  understood.  Close 
attention  to  the  mechanics  of  style  will  generally  make  a  writer 
intelligible,  provided  always,  that  he  wishes  his  meaning  to  be 
apprehended  easily,  and  that  he  himself  knows  what  he  is  attempt- 
ing to  say.  It  is  no  less  needful  to  appeal  to  the  average  emotional 
experiences  of  mankind  in  order  to  be  clear  to  the  general  reader. 
It  must  be  remembered  that  all  art  is  based  on  the  assumption  of 
a  community  of  human  feelings ;  in  other  words,  upon  the  theory 
that  the  fundamental  emotions  are  shared  by  all  mankind.  The 
more  closely  a  writer  holds  to  common  humanity,  to  common 
human  experience,  the  more  wide  will  be  the  range  of  his  work, 
and  the  more  clear  will  he  be  in  those  very  matters  where  clear- 
ness is  most  difficult  of  attainment.  To  gain  clearness  it  is  neces- 
sary first  to  avoid  all  vagueness  of  thought  and  all  vagueness  of 
expression.  It  is  needful  to  shun  ambiguity  of  word  or  of  phrase, 
and  that  more  subtle  ambiguity  which  may  arise  from  ill- 
considered  paragraphing,  from  misproportion,  or  from  bad  ar- 
rangement of  the  parts  of  a  composition.  Finally,  it  is  no  less  im- 
portant to  write  with  a  constant  remembrance  of  the  audience 
addressed ;  to  use  their  language  and  to  appeal  to  the  experiences 
which  are  likely  to  be  common  to  the  average  individual.  These 
are  the  principles  upon  which  have  been  written  the  masterpieces 
of  the  world." 

Errors   Regarding  Clearness. —  The    inexperienced    writer   sins 
against  clearness  in  two  ways.     First,  by  so  expressing  him- 


THE  COMPLETE  COMPOSITION  43 

self  that  what  he  writes  may  mean  more  than  one 
thing.  It  is  the  sin  of  vagueness  and  ambiguity.  It  is  often 
the  sin  of  such  writers  as  Emerson,  Carlyle,  Brown- 
ing. Emerson  said  of  his  own  sentences :  "  They  are  in- 
finitely repellant  particles."  Browning  is  purposely  obscure, 
and,  on  that  account,  the  despair  of  modern  criticism.  A 
second  error  is  the  introduction  of  a  pedantic  terminology. 
Some  compositions,  like  the  garb  of  the  primitive  man,  are 
fantastic  with  feathers  —  from  science,  philosophy,  theology. 
The  most  obscure  references  flatter  the  childish  vanity  of  the 
pedant  and  the  young  artist.  Among  great  modern  writers 
James  Russell  Lowell  is  a  shining  example  of  the  pedantic 
workman.  His  page  is  full  of  literary  allusions  which  appeal 
only  to  the  select  and  learned  few.  On  the  reception  of  his 
book,  "  My  Study  Windows,"  Matthew  Arnold  wrote  him 
as  follows :  "  My  Dear  Mr.  Lowell :  Your  latest  volume 
gives  me  great  pleasure,  indeed.  But  your  manifold  references 
and  allusions  often  weigh  down  and  crush  your  subject  like 
the  shields  of  the  Romans  on  the  breast  of  Tarpeia." 

Force. —  The  second  quality  desirable  in  a  composition  is 
force.  As  clearness  represents  the  intellectual  quality,  so  force 
stands  for  the  emotional  quality  of  a  composition.  It  appeals 
to  the  emotions ;  its  purpose  is  to  arouse  feeling.  A  composi- 
tion interests  and  stirs  us  because  of  it.  Various  names 
are  applied  to  this  quality  which  awakens  sympathy, 
arouses  passion  and  sets  the  imagination  of  the  reader  or 
hearer  at  work.  Whately  calls  it  energy;  Campbell,  vivacity; 
Bain,  strength.  Aristotle  uses  the  Greek  equivalent  for  en- 
ergy. But  science  supplies  the  best  term  —  force.  This  qual- 
ity must  be  understood  to  cover  more  than  transient  outbreaks 
of  emotion,  or  feeling  at  high  tide ;  it  is  used  in  the  sense  of 
lasting  vigor  and  power. 


44  THE  COMPLETE  COMPOSITION 

The  Basis  of  Force  in  Art-Form. —  First  of  all,  there  is  the 
specific  term  which  gives  force  to  composition.  This  term  is 
demanded  on  account  of  its  vividness  and  its  suggestiveness. 
It  gives  concrete  form  to  the  work  of  the  artist.  For  example, 
compare  sound  with  the  definiteness  and  force  of  cry,  roar,  yell, 
howl.  In  the  specific  term  we  have  the  power  of  connotation 
or  suggestiveness.  For  example,  compare  This  man  is  deficient 
in  common  sense,  with.  This  man  is  a  donkey.  On  this  point 
Baldwin  observes :  "  The  connotation  or  suggesiiveness  of 
words  and  phrases,  which  is  their  meaning  for  style,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  their  denotation,  which  is  their  meaning  for 
business  and  logic,  as  it  measures  elegance,  measures  also 
strength.  The  pursuit  of  force,  then,  is  the  pursuit  of  emo- 
tional connotations,  and  emotional  connotations  attach  espe- 
cially to  words  familiar  and  specifically  concrete.  The  habit 
of  the  concrete  and  specific  is  the  force  of  Homer,  the  force  of 
Dante  and  of  Chaucer,  the  force  of  Newman  and  Tennyson, 
the  force  of  all  great  writers  that  choose  to  move  our  imagina- 
tions directly.  It  is  the  strong  way  of  narration  and  descrip- 
tion because  it  is  the  way  of  emotional  suggestion.  Even  the 
most  diverse  styles,  in  so  far  as  they  have  force,  will  be  found 
to  have  it  by  these  means."  (Baldwin,  Rhetoric.)  The  value 
of  Saxon  as  supplying  our  concrete  terms,  once  more  becomes 
obvious. 

Figures  of  Speech  as  a  Source.—  Figures  of  speech  are  em- 
phatically the  language  of  power.  As  soon  as  a  writer 
wishes  to  impress  his  earnestness  upon  you,  he  invariably 
breaks  out  in  figurative  language.  Even  the  untutored 
swain  finds  a  figure  quite  as  handy  as  a  club  whenever 
he  wishes  to  express  the  vehemence  of  his  emotion.  Divine 
wisdom  always  employed  figurative  language  to  impress  the 
truths  of  the  Gospel  upon  the  mind.  For  example,  "  The 
Devil  goeth  about  like  a  roaring  lion."  "  Work  not  for  the 


THE  COMPLETE  COMPOSITION  45 

meat  that  perisheth,  but  for  the  meat  of  eternal  life."  "Ye 
Scribes  and  Pharisees,  ye  are  whitened  sepulchres."  Figurat- 
ive language  gives  force  to  composition  in  proportion  to  the 
universality  of  its  appeal.  Hence,  figures  should  be  drawn 
from  familiar  sources.  The  best  models  in  this  regard  are 
the  figures  and  parables  in  Holy  Scripture.  We  cannot  im- 
prove upon  the  choice  made  by  Divine  Wisdom.  No  writing 
possesses  more  force  than  Holy  Scripture,  because  of  this  wise 
selection  of  figurative  language.  On  the  value  of  figures  to 
give  strength  to  style  and  to  heighten  emotion  Dr.  Blair  writes 
as  follows :  "  We  can  always  heighten  the  emotion  by  the 
figures  which  we  introduce,  leading  the  imagination  to  a  train 
of  agreeable  or  disagreeable,  of  exalting  or  debasing  ideas 
which  correspond  to  the  impressions  that  we  choose  to  make. 
When  we  want  to  render  an  object  beautiful  or  magnificent, 
we  borrow  images  from  the  most  beautiful  or  splendid  scenes 
of  nature;  we  thereby  throw  a  lustre  over  our  object;  we  en- 
liven the  reader's  mind  and  dispose  him  to  go  along  with  us 
in  the  various  impressions  which  we  give  him  of  the  subject. 
All  this  leads  us  to  reflect  on  the  wonderful  power  of  language. 
What  a  fine  vehicle  it  has  now  become  for  all  the  conceptions 
of  the  human  mind.  Not  content  with  a  simple  communication 
of  ideas,  it  paints  these  ideas  to  the  eye  in  the  most  forcible 
and  beautiful  manner  through  the  medium  of  figurative  lan- 
guage. So  that  language,  from  being  a  rude  and  imperfect 
interpreter  of  men's  wants  and  necessities,  has  now  passed  into 
an  instrument  of  the  most  delicate  and  refined  luxury." 

A  Subjective  Source.— The  great  secret  of  force  lies  not  only 
in  the  marvellous  power  of  language,  but  also  in  the  marvel- 
lous power  of  the  human  will  and  character.  It  lies  in  the 
earnestness,  sincerity  and  sympathy  of  the  writer.  A  reader 
of  Carlyle  is  impressed  at  once  with  the  intense  earnestness  of 
the  man,  which  gives  to  his  words  the  force  and  weight  of  a 


45  THE  COMPLETE  COMPOSITION 

sledge  hammer.  A  reader  of  Newman,  whatever  be  his  reli- 
gious convictions,  cannot  help  seeing  that  the  secret  of  his  pow- 
erful style,  so  forcible,  yet  so  captivating,  lies  in  the  sincerity 
and  sympathy  of  the  writer.  The  great  orators  of  the  world  — 
a  Demosthenes,  or  Bossuet,  or  Burke,  or  Webster,  or  Patrick 
Henry  —  are  perhaps  the  best  examples  of  this  peculiar  quality 
in  composition ;  and  no  class  of  men  are  more  earnest,  sincere 
and  sympathetic  than  they. 

Elegance. —  Elegance  is  the  third  and  last  quality  required 
in  a  complete  composition.  It  is  the  quality  that  appeals  to 
the  aesthetic  sense  or  to  our  appreciation  of  beauty.  For  it  is 
the  beautiful  as  expressed  in  art-form  —  the  select  word-combi- 
nation, variety  in  the  sentence  and  paragraph,  a  happy  choice 
of  figures  and  illustration,  a  harmonious  development  of  the 
complete  composition.  It,  therefore,  pertains  to  structural 
beauty;  and  in  the  complete  structure  it  reveals  the  personal 
taste  and  culture  of  the  artist.  He  reveals  a  quick  appreciation 
of  beauty,  a  keen  perception  of  the  fitness  of  things,  a  power 
to  convey  both  in  the  choicest  words;  he  reveals  politeness, 
a  well-bred  restraint,  a  complete  freedom  from  any  manner 
of  excess,  a  perfect  adaptation  of  style  to  thought.  And  for 
these  various  reasons  he  is  called  an  elegant  writer. 

Etymological  Meaning.— The  word,  elegance,  implies  to  select 
-  to  pick  and  choose.     When  applied  to  composition,  it  means 
to  pick  and  choose  from  the  vast  mass  of  words,   phrases, 
sentences,  paragraphs,  thoughts,  that  which  best  suits  our  lit- 
erary purpose  and  the  requirements  of  art. 

Scope  of  Elegance.— As  elegance  is  an  appeal  to  the  aesthetic 
sense,  it  has  to  do  with  the  complete  structure  of  the  composi- 
tion, how  it  will  affect  the  mind  of  the  reader.  The  reader 
must  be  pleased  not  only  with  the  various  parts,  but  with  the 
general  effect  of  the  whole  composition.  Hence,  elegance  is  the 


EXPOSITION  47 

result  of  the  last  touches  of  the  great  artist  upon  the  literary 
canvas.  Newman  wrote  thus  concerning  Cicero :  "  Cicero 
wrote  elegantly  because  he  had  a  keen  appreciation  of  what  is 
fine  in  literary  art.  In  his  writings  there  is  an  exquisite  adap- 
tation of  style  to  thought.  He  was  acquainted  with  the  best 
models  of  Grecian  literature  —  he  read  them  for  happy  turns 
of  phrase  —  he  read  them  for  the  emotion  wedded  to  the 
thoughts,  which  makes  all  thinking  human.  He  wrote  ele- 
gantly because  out  of  those  models  he  would  pick  and  choose 
whatever  made  thought  pleasing  and  expression  beautiful." 

Kinds  of  Composition. —  The  complete  composition  admits 
of  four  classifications,  according  to  the  subject  matter  and  the 
manner  of  writing.  Of  these  four  kinds  of  composition,  the 
first  deals  with  persons  or  things  —  it  is  called  Descriptive; 
the  second  deals  with  acts  or  events  —  it  is  called  Narrative; 
the  third  deals  with  whatever  admits  of  analysis  or  requires 
explanation  —  it  is  called  Exposition;  the  fourth  deals  with 
any  material  that  may  be  used  to  convince  the  understanding 
or  to  affect  the  will  —  it  is  called  Argument.  As  a  rule,  these 
four  kinds  of  composition  are  not  distinct  and  separate  in 
literary  art.  The  artist  at  times  necessarily  allows  one  kind 
to  run  into  another;  thus,  for  example,  a  narrative  work 
will  often  be  descriptive,  an  argumentative  work  will  often 
include  exposition.  It  is  possible,  however,  to  have  purely 
argumentative,  expository,  descriptive  or  narrative  writing. 
Certain  rules  guide  the  artist  in  each  class  of  work. 

Exposition. —  When  the  artist  adopts  this  style,  he  poses  as 
a  teacher ;  he  aims  at  lucid  explanation ;  his  object  is  to  appeal 
to  the  minds  of  his  readers;  he  presents  facts,  analyses,  collates 
and  combines  them;  he  unfolds  hidden  meanings,  the  signifi- 
cance of  things  complex  and  subtle.  Although  it  appears  in 
artistic  synthesis,  exposition  is  only  another  Mme  for  analysis ; 


4g  THE  COMPLETE  COMPOSITION 

and  because  it  is  so,  the  guiding-  principle  for  the  artist  is 
clearness  —  clearness  in  statement  of  facts,  clearness  in 
thought-division,  clearness  in  analytical  development  of  the 
topic.  So  that  the  artist  must  give  strict  attention  to  his  defini- 
tions,- divisions,  generalizations.  A  second  principle  sub- 
ordinate to  this  is  the  principle  of  selection;  that  is  of  taking 
from  the  varied  details  those  particulars  which,  when  massed 
together,  make  the  most  vivid  impression.  This  principle  also 
applies  to  description  where  a  picture  of  the  object  described 
ought  to  be  presented  to  the  mind.  The  necessity  of  some 
method  is  likewise  obvious ;  no  one  method  can  be  mentioned 
as  best  in  all  cases,  but  in  every  expository  composition,  some 
method  of  arrangement  should  be  followed.  This  principle 
applies  to  all  kinds  of  writing,  but  in  a  special  manner  to 
exposition,  the  object  of  which  is  to  analyze  and  instruct 
rather  than  to  please  the  aesthetic  sense.  Along  with  these 
principles  must  go  the  fundamental  principles  of  all  art  — 
unity,  harmony,  balance,  proportion. 

Description. —  Description  may  be  scientific  or  literary. 
Scientific  description  is  an  exact  statement  of  the  truth  re- 
specting the  qualities,  characteristics,  details,  of  an  object.  It 
aims  at  the  truth  alone.  Literary  description  mentions  like- 
wise the  qualities  and  characteristics  of  an  object,  but  so  ar- 
ranges and  classifies  them  as  to  bring  before  the  mind  an  image 
or  a  picture  of  the  object  described.  The  image  of  the  object 
in  the  mind  of  the  writer  is  transferred  by  written  symbols 
to  the  mind  of  the  reader.  This  transfer  is  one  of  the  tri- 
umphs of  literary  art.  There  are  various  rules  which  assist 
the  writer  in  making  this  transfer.  First,  a  cultivation  of  the 
habit  of  visualizing  things ;  that  is.  seeing  them  as  clearly  in 
your  own  imagination  as  you  see  them  in  reality  and  in  fact. 
The  imagination  should  be  trained  to  hold  a  photograph  of 
the  object  before  the  mind,  as  a  painter  keeps  your  photograph 


NARRATION  49 

before  him  when  enlarging  your  picture.  The  merit  of  lit- 
erary description  depends  largely  upon  this  power.  Words- 
worth calls  it  the  training  of  the  inward  eye.  A  Second  rule 
is  to  find  and  express  the  central  idea  of  the  picture  thus 
mentally  photographed.  Two  or  three  characteristic  touches 
are  sufficient  to  suggest  the  whole.  A  third  rule  is  to  proceed 
from  the  near  to  the  remote;  from  the  physical  to  the  mental; 
from  the  obvious  to  the  obscure.  This  is  but  the  natural 
process  of  setting  forth  the  characteristics  of  anything  —  to 
pass  from  the  known  to  the  unknown.  A  fourth  rule  is  to 
make  the  details  of  the  description  submit  to  the  central 
thought.  These  details  are  not  suppressed;  they  are  incident- 
ally mentioned  or  suggested,  but  they  are  always  kept  sub 
ordinate.  A  final  rule  is  to  open  the  composition  with  a 
general  view,  a  broad  idea,  of  the  thing,  the  person  or  the 
scene  to  be  pictured.  This  rule  holds  whether  the  description 
be  long  or  short.  The  reader  should  have  a  general  view  at 
once;  hence,  the  opening  paragraph  of  an  essay,  the  introduc- 
tion of  a  speech,  the  preface  of  a  book,  the  prologue  of  a  play, 
the  beginning  of  any  work  of  literary  art,  will  be  written  for 
this  purpose. 

Narration. —  Like  description,  this  species  of  writing  has 
for  its  subject-matter  either  persons  or  things.  Its  purpose 
is  to  tell  of  acts  and  events.  Unlike  description,  it  is  not  con- 
cerned with  pictorial  work :  what  the  person  does  or  suffers, 
not  how  he  appears,  is  the  main  concern  of  the  writer.  As  to 
its  artistic  value,  in  telling  the  story  of  some  human  experience 
or  in  supplying  a  record  of  events,  the  highest  art  is  employed. 
As  movement  is  the  law  of  life,  it  is  the  first  principle  applied 
to  narrative,  which  aims  at  telling  the  story  of  life.  Action, 
action,  action,  the  classic  definition  of  oratory,  is  the  advice 
given  by  the  trained  artist  to  the  novice :  keep  the  story  moving: 
cut  out  all  particulars  which  unnecessarily  impede  its  progress. 


-0  THE  COMPLETE  COMPOSITION 

Omit  every  detail  which  can  possibly  be  spared.  A  second 
rule  is  that  of  method.  As  in  description,  so  in  narrative: 
method  is  demanded  for  an  intelligent  presentation  of  the  story. 
It  is  looked  for,  and  it  constitutes  much  of  the  charm  in 
biography,  history  and  fiction  where  narrative  writing  predom- 
inates. Many  biographers  and  historians  fail,  because  at  the 
outset  they  adopted  no  method  in  their  work.  As  examples  of 
methodical  work  read  the  biographical  essays  of  Johnson, 
Macaulay,  the  historical  essays  of  Newman,  the  Biography  of 
Johnson  by  Boswell,  the  "Decline  and  Fall  "  by  Gibbon.  On 
the  importance  of  narrative  Bates  writes :  "  It  is  the  form  of 
literature  which  most  invariably  appeals  to  men,  and  it  is  no 
less  that  form  which  most  affects  human  conduct.  Men  who 
could  not  be  brought  to  give  ear  to  a  sermon  may  be  taught 
by  a  parable  or  moved  by  a  tale.  It  is  in  narrative  that  prose 
rises  most  surely  and  indisputably  to  the  rank  of  a  fine  art." 

Argument. —  It  is  that  kind  of  composition  which  appeals 
rather  to  the  understanding  than  to  the  aesthetic  sense ;  for  it 
supplies  reasons  in  support  of  a  proposition.  In  its  literary 
connection,  the  word  is  used  collectively,  as  indicating  a  body 
of  reasons  which,  for  example,  would  take  the  form  of  an  essay. 
More  frequently,  however,  argument  and  persuasion  are  allied, 
the  one  appealing  to  the  reason,  the  other,  to  the  feelings. 
Taken  together  they  form  one  department  of  literature  —  ora- 
tory. Inasmuch  as  argument  addresses  the  understanding,  it 
presupposes  a  knowledge  of  logic.  For  argument  deals  with 
propositions,  and  propositions  are  things  to  be  proved  or  dis- 
proved;  and  proof  consists  of  all  that  is  brought  forward  to 
sustain  or  refute  the  proposition,  and  it  contains  facts  and 
inferences  so  arranged  as  to  be  effective  for  the  purpose.  As 
to  the  number  and  kind  of  arguments  which  may  be  employed, 
it  is  the  province  of  logic  to  supply  such  information,  and  a 
detailed  account  of  them  cannot  be  given  here.  But  in  the 


ARGUMENT  5! 

arrangement  of  them  in  a  composition,  the  artist  is  guided  by 
two  rules.  The  first  of  these  rules  calls  for  the  strongest 
arguments  at  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  the  composition, 
just  as  the  most  emphatic  words  are  placed  at  the  beginning 
and  the  end  of  a  sentence.  The  remaining  arguments  are 
massed  between  these  two  points  —  they  form  the  body  of  the 
composition.  The  second  rule  is  not  to  employ  too  many 
arguments,  for  where  too  many  are. employed,  the  weak  ones 
are  apt  to  have  the  very  opposite  effect  from  the  one  intended ; 
and  where  very  many  are  employed,  some  are  bound  to  be 
weak  and  ineffective.  In  the  case  of  those  selected,  the  artist 
should  present  them  in  detail  and  in  the  strongest  possible 
manner.  Such  presentation  requires  the  utmost  clearness  in 
style.  The  short  sentence,  easily  grasped  and  going  directly 
to  the  point,  is  preferable  in  the  argumentative  style.  All  the 
wealth  of  language  is  employed  to  present  the  argument  in  a 
variety  of  lights,  and  hold  it  before  the  mind  until  it  is  fully 
grasped.  Imagery  and  illustration  also  abound  in  this  style. 
All  the  wealth  of  rhetoric  is  employed  to  this  end  —  to  make 
the  argument  so  effective  that  it  must  prevail.  Hence,  the  ap- 
peal to  the  jmagination  and  to  the  emotions,  which  usually  ac- 
companies argument.  Feeling  is  the  powerful  ally  of  reason 
in  bending  and  subduing  the  will.  As  models  of  argument, 
read  the  speeches  of  Cicero,  Burke,  Webster.  On  the  prac- 
tical application  of  argument  to  literary  work  Bates  observes 
that  the  most  obvious  use  of  it  is  in  the  plea  of  the  lawyer, 
the  editorials  of  the  newspaper,  the  essays  or  speeches  establish- 
ing scientific,  literary,  political  and  religious  opinions.  Who- 
ever writes  at  all  is  sure  to  employ  argument  sooner  or  later, 
and  to  a  greater  or  less  degree.  Civilization  differs  from  bar- 
barism chiefly  in  that  the  strife  has  become  intellectual  instead 
of  physical ;  and  intellectual  conflict  is  but  another  name  for 
argument. 


OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


CHAPTER   VII 
ART-CONTENT  TN  LITERATURE 

SUBLIMITY. 

Meaning  of  the  Term. —  The  elements  of  art-form  so  far 
reviewed  —  the  word,  the  sentence,  the  paragraph,  the  com- 
plete composition  —  have  to  do  with  the  framework  and  form 
of  composition.  The  elements  of  art-content  have  to  do  with 
the  ideas  expressed ;  they  are  sublimity,  beauty,  feeling,  humor, 
wit,  melody.  These  elements  are  called  emotional,  because 
they  appeal  in  a  special  manner  to  the  emotions;  and  as  the 
primary  purpose  of  all  art  is  to  arouse  emotion,  these  elements 
are  of  vital  importance.  For  when  ideas  are  expressed  without 
this  emotional  appeal  we  have,  for  example,  a  mathematical 
or  scientific  treatise,  but  not  literature  properly  so  called. 
These  elements  humanize  writing  and  make  it  literature 

Sublimity  Defined.—  Sublimity  is  defined  as  that  quality  of 
literary  art  which  arouses  our  emotion  by  expressing  boundless 
extent  or  superior  might.  Longinus  describes  it  as  that  quality 
of  composition  which  elevates  the  mind  above  itself,  and  fills 
it  with  higher  conceptions  and  noble  pride.  "  The  true  sense/' 
says  Blair,  "  of  sublime  writing  undoubtedly  is  such  a  descrip- 
tion of  objects  or  exhibition  of  sentiments,  which  are  of  them- 
selves of  a  sublime  nature,  as  shall  give  us  strong  impressions 
of  them.'*  Bascom  describes  this  element  as  follows :  "  Sub- 
blimity  and  beauty  are  but  two  extremes,  the  higher  and  the 
lower  manifestations  of  the  same  quality."  When  the  mind 

52 


SUBLIMITY  $£ 

is  more  than  pleased,  says  Quackenbos,  when  it  is  elevated 
and  transported  by  the  grandeur  of  the  perceived  idea,  the 
aesthetic  emotion  induced  is  commonly  described  as  sublime. 
Sublimity  lies  in  the  concord  between  majestic  means  and  the 
highest  conceivable  end,  the  noblest  and  most  sacred  purpose. 
It  is  therefore  the  element  of  art-content,  which  yields  the  most 
intense  delight,  the  highest  degree  of  which  is  united  with 
awe  and  solemnity.  It  is  the  element  which  makes  the  strong- 
est emotional  appeal. 

Sources  of  Sublimity. —  Sublimity  in  literary  art  is  due  to 
sublimity  in  nature,  for  the  obvious  reason  that  art  is  an 
imitation  of  nature.  There  are  two  chief  sources  —  the  physi- 
cal sublime  and  the  moral  sublime.  Both  are  found  in  nature. 
The  simplest  form  of  the  physical  sublime  is  the  vast,  bound- 
less, prospects  of  nature  —  the  limitless  plain,  the  expanse  of 
ocean,  the  firmament  of  heaven.  "  All  vastness,"  says  Blair, 
"  produces  the  impression  of  sublimity.  Remove  all  bounds 
from  any  object  and  you  presently  render  it  sublime.  And 
you  add  to  the  sublimity  by  extending  the  object  in  depth  and 
height;  as,  for  example,  the  fathomless  gulf,  the  heaven- 
ascending  mountain,  the  starry  heights  above  all."  Such  ex- 
amples are  more  impressive  than  a  plain  of  boundless  extent. 
Sources  of  the  sublime,  such  as  infinite  space,  endless  numbers, 
eternal  duration,  evoke  the  strongest  emotion.  '  The  emotion 
caused  by  the  great  and  sublime  in  nature,"  says  Burke,  "  when 
those  causes  operate  most  powerfully,  is  astonishment;  and 
astonishment  is  that  state  of  the  soul  in  which  all  its  motions 
are  suspended  with  some  degree  of  horror.  In  this  case  the 
mind  is  so  entirely  filled  with  its  object,  that  it  cannot  entertain 
any  other,  nor  by  consequence  reason  on  that  object  which 
employs  it.  Hence,  arises  the  great  power  of  the  sublime, 
that,  far  from  being  produced  by  them,  it  anticipates  our  reas- 
onings and  hurries  us  on  by  an  irresistible  force.  As  the 


CA  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

great  extreme  of  dimension  is  sublime,  so  the  last  extreme  of 
littleness  is  likewise  in  the  same  measure  sublime.  When 
we  attend  to  the  infinite  divisibility  of  matter,  when  we  pursue 
animal  life  into  those  excessively  small  and  yet  organized  be- 
ings, that  are  known  only  through  the  microscope,  we  become 
amazed  and  confounded  as  at  the  vast  itself."  Nature  — 
boundless  inward  in  the  atom,  boundless  outward  in  the  whole 
-  is  sublime  under  both  aspects. 

Infinity  as  a  Source. —  Infinity  has  a  tendency  to  fill  the 
mind  with  that  source  of  delightful  terror  which  is  the  most 
genuine  effect  of  the  sublime.  There  are  two  infinites  to  feed 
the  imagination  and  inspire  sublimity.  First,  the  real  Infinite 
which  is  God  Himself.  No  literature  is  so  sublime  as  the  He- 
brew ;  and  this  sublimity  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  Hebrew 
mind  struggled  to  give  adequate  expression  to  the  qualities  and 
attributes  of  God  —  He  Who  existed  before  the  foundations 
of  the  world  were  laid  —  Who  holdeth  all  nations  and  all 
worlds  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand.  The  real  Infinite  has  in- 
spired not  only  the  most  sublime  passages  of  the  Bible,  but  of  all 
other  literature  also.  Besides  the  real  Infinite,  there  is  what 
critics  call  the  artificial  infinite  —  a  counterfeit  presentment,  ex- 
amples of  which  are  supplied  by  nature  and  by  art.  This  in- 
finite in  order  to  produce  its  effect,  must  have  succession  and 
uniformity;  succession  is  required  in  order  that  the  parts  may 
be  continued  so  long  and  in  such  a  direction  as  to  impress  the 
imagination  with  the  idea  that  they  are  unending.  For  exam- 
ple, the  steppes  of  a  desert,  the  waves  of  the  ocean,  the  trees  of 
a  forest.  Uniformity  of  parts  is  necessary  to  artificial  infinity; 
otherwise  the  imagination  would  find  a  check  at  every  change — 
variety  in  parts  would  break  that  changeless,  smooth  progres- 
sion which  alone  can  stamp  on  bounded  objects  the  character 
of  infinity.  Every  artist,  no  matter  what  may  be  his  medium, 
employs  the  artificial  infinite.  For  example,  the  aisle  or  dome 


SUBLIMITY  55 

in  architecture;  the  background  and  perspective  in  painting. 
In  literary  art  it  is  extensively  employed.  First  of  all,  in  words 
which  employ  a  negation  of  limitations  —  such  words  as 
boundless,  limitless,  never,  forever,  immortal,  endless.  Sec- 
ondly, in  figures  of  speech  which  reproduce  the  artificial 
infinite  of  nature.  For  example,  the  "  all-beholding  sun/' 
"  plains  where  winds  are  weary  of  travel,"  "  never-dying  light 
of  the  stars."  Thirdly,  in  oratorical  or  poetic  license,  where 
limitations  are  removed  by  the  sweeping,  unmodified  statements 
of  emotion.  Finally,  in  all  kinds  of  literary  work  where  the 
imagination  demands  fullest  freedom.  The  highest  art  in  one 
way  or  another  must  give  the  imagination  scope  by  using  this 
kind  of  infinity. 

Power  as  a  Source. —  Like  vastness  or  infinity,  power  pro- 
duces sublimity.  In  general,  great  exhibitions  of  power  al- 
ways raise  sublime  ideas.  For  example,  the  earthquake,  vol- 
cano, thunder  and  lightning,  great  conflagrations,  tornadoes, 
the  storm-tossed  ocean.  "  I  know  of  nothing  sublime,"  says 
Burke,  "  which  is  not  some  modification  of  power."  And  this 
is  found  to  be  true  on  final  analysis,  for  power  is  displayed 
by  the  elements  in  the  storm  and  conflagration ;  it  is  displayed 
by  the  waves  of  the  ocean  engulfing  the  huge  ship  as  if  it  were 
an  eggshell ;  it  is  displayed  by  the  earth  and  the  planets  rolling 
so  swiftly  in  vast  orbits  ;  and  finally,  by  God  Himself  of  Whom 
the  psalmist  wrote :  "  Tremble,  thou  earth !  at  the  presence 
of  the  Lord."  The  power  of  God,  and  the  wonderful  ways 
in  which  that  power  is  exerted,  produce  as  many  sublime  ideas 

as  do  His  majesty  and  His  infinity. 

«' 

Obscurity,  Silence,  Solitude. —  These  qualities  of  nature  pro- 
duce the  sublime.  For  example,  the  obscurity  surrounding 
ghosts  and  supernatural  beings  as  typified  in  Hamlet's  ghost 
and  Job's  vision  in  the  night.  Of  silence  and  solitude  nature 


,5  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

supplies  many  examples  such  as  great  deserts  like  the  Sahara ; 
gloomy,  pathless  forests  like  the  Black  Forest  of  Germany; 
the  recesses  of  large  mountain  chains  like  the  Andes  or  Alps ; 
the  lonesome  ice  fields  of  either  pole.  Perhaps  the  most  sub- 
lime spectacle  in  nature  is  the  starry  heavens,  for  in  those 
starry  expanses  all  the  physical  sources  of  sublimity  are  pres- 
ent—  vastness,  power,  silence,  obscurity.  Sublimity  arising 
from  these  sources  depends  in  a  large  measure  upon  an  ac- 
companying terror.  And  the  qualities  just  mentioned  add  a 
note  of  terror.  For  example,  how  much  the  night  adds  to 
the  terror  of  the  pathless  wood  or  the  raging  tornado.  The 
value  of  obscurity  is  known  to  all  artists.  The  architect  made 
the  heathen  temples  dark,  also  the  Gothic  cathedral,  the  im~ 
pressiveness  of  which  depends  largely  on  the  dimly  lighted 
aisles,  and  the  gloomy  vault  soaring  away,  as  it  were,  into  infin- 
ity. Painting,  like  architecture,  makes  use  of  obscurity;  the 
dark  or  obscure  background  covers  details  which  otherwise 
would  mar  the  general  effect.  And  that  effect  is  generally  best 
seen  by  a  dim  or  subdued  light.  When  painters  attempt  to  give 
clear  representations  of  sublime  ideas,  says  Burke,  they  always 
fail.  Similarly,  the  literary  artist  employs  obscurity.  The 
sublime  parts  of  a  drama  are  acted  in  shadow ;  imagery  in 
literary  art  is  always  most  sublime  when  obscure.  For  ex- 
ample, take  the  gloomy  pomp  and  obscure  coloring  in  the  sub- 
lime passages  of  Homer  or  Milton.  Burke  offers  this  explana- 
tion :  "  It  is  our  ignorance  of  things,  that  causes  most  of  our 
admiration  and  chiefly  excites  our  emotion.  Knowledge  and 
acquaintance  make  the  most  striking  causes  affect  us  but  little. 
It  is  thus  with  the  vulgar,  and  all  men  are  as  the  vulgar  in 
what  they  do  not  understand.  As  an  example,  the  ideas  of 
eternity  and  infinity  are  among  the  most  sublime  and  affecting 
we  have,  yet  there  is  nothing  of  which  we  really  understand 
so  little,  as  of  infinity  and  eternity.  The  imagination  distorts 
and  magnifies  whatever  is  not  clearly  known."  In  like  manner, 


SUBLIMITY  57 

solitude,  silence  and  vacuity  are  sources  of  the  sublime;  they 
excite  fear  and  terror.  The  solitude  of  a»  Siberian  prison  with 
its  barren  wastes  of  snow  on  every  side  stretching  far  away ; 
the  silence  and  barrenness  of  the  great  deserts  like  those  of 
Africa  where  the  caravan  crawls  over  lone  and  level  sands  — 
treeless,  manless,  forlorn;  the  awful  silence  of  the  vast  ice 
fields  of  either  pole  or  of  the  starry  heavens  —  all  stir  the 
deepest  emotion.  Solitary  confinement  is  a  dreadful  punish- 
ment; hence,  the  sublimity  of  Prometheus  who  endured  three 
thousand  years  of  it.  Some  of  the  finest  passages  of  literature 
draw  their  sublimity  from  these  sources.  As  examples,  read 
Milton's  description  of  Hell  or  Chaos ;  the  "  Prometheus  Un- 
bound "  of  Shelley;  Byron's  "Address  to  the  Ocean  " ;  Dante's 
"  Purgatory  "  ;  Goethe's  "  Faust  "  ;  Humboldt's  "  Description 
of  South  American  Plains  and  Mountains  " ;  "  The  Death  of 
Arthur  "  by  Tennyson ;  Virgil's  "  Entrance  to  Tartarus." 

Sound  as  a  Source.—  The  eye  is  not  the  only  organ  of  sen- 
sation by  which  a  sublime  emotion  may  be  produced.  Sound 
has  an  equally  great  power,  although  it  is  more  limited  in 
range.  Excessive  loudness  alone  is  sufficient  to  overpower  the 
soul,  to  suspend  its  action  and  to  fill  it  with  terror.  The  noise 
of  vast  cataracts,  raging  storms,  of  thunder  or  artillery,  awak- 
ens a  great  and  awful  sensation.  The  shouting  of  multitudes 
has  a  similar  effect ;  so  also  the  cries  of  wild  beasts.  As  literary 
examples  of  sublimity  in  sound,  read  Poe's  "  The  Bells  " ;  the 
"  Knocking  at  the  Gate  "  in  "  Macbeth  ";  the  hovel  scene  in 
"  King  Lear  " ;  the  "  Debate  in  Pandemonium  "  by  Milton. 

Animated  Nature. —  Animated  nature  furnishes  two  sources 
—  the  moral  sublime  and  the  intellectual  sublime.  The  moral 
sublime  is  shown  in  two  ways:  first,  in  the  moral  strength 
of  superiority  to  passing  impulse  in  the  pursuit  of  great  ob- 
jects. For  example,  the  toil  and  persistence  of  an  Alexander, 


5g  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

Caesar,  Columbus.  Hence,  heroic  examples  of  this  kind  always 
leave  an  indelible  impress  on  the  mind.  A  second  source  is 
self-sacrifice,  which  is  the  highest  moral  heroism.  The  most 
sublime  moral  example  in  this  regard  is  the  Redeemer  of  man- 
kind. Likewise,  the  man  who  sacrifices  himself  for  his  friends, 
family,  or  country  is  an  example  of  the  moral  sublime.  In- 
stances in  point  are  daring  feats  in  war  —  the  themes  of  epic 
and  tragedy.  The  moral  sublime  exemplified  in  human  beings 
makes  a  far  stronger  appeal  than  any  other ;  hence,  Divine  Wis- 
dom became  incarnate  and  lived  the  life  of  man  in  order  to  win 
humanity. 

The  Intellectual  Sublime. —  Intellectual  power,  like  moral 
power,  is  a  source  of  sublimity.  Literature  is  full  of  sub- 
lime passages  dealing  with  intellectual  greatness,  as  exhibited 
in  men  like  Solomon,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Aquinas,  Newton, 
Bacon.  For  a  conspectus  of  these  read  Pope's  "  Temple  of 
Fame."  Usually,  intellectual  and  moral  greatness  combine  to 
give  us  the  sublime  human  specimen.  For  example,  Aquinas, 
Bossuet,  Galileo.  The  great  heroes  like  Alexander  or  Caesar 
are  sublime  examples  of  intellectual  greatness  and  moral  en- 
durance. 

Maleficent  Power  in  the  Moral  Order. —  Power  as  exerted 
by  the  higher  orders  of  creation  is  often  sublime.  This  power 
is  of  two  kinds,  maleficent  and  beneficent.  Maleficent  power 
is  the  infliction  of  suffering.  Human  suffering  may  proceed 
from  physical  causes — pestilence,  famine,  storms,  floods,  earth- 
quakes, conflagrations;  it  may  proceed  from  human  agencies 
such  as  the  invasions  of  the  Tartars,  the  Turks,  the  Goths,  the 
destruction  of  great  cities,  such  as  the  sack  of  Troy,  of 
Carthage,  of  Rome ;  it  may  proceed  from  supernatural  agencies 
such  as  the  spiritual  ruin  of  man  by  malignant  spirits.  But 
whatever  be  the  source,  it  has  inspired  the  largest  part  of  that 


.  SU'BLIMITY  59 

literature  in  which  sublimity  predominates.  Some  illustra- 
tions :  Thucydides  took  for  his  subject  the  great  plague  of 
Athens;  Ovid  sang  about  a  pestilence;  Virgil  and  Homer  dealt 
with  the  ruin  of  Troy;  Milton  and  Dante  sang  about  the  Fall 
of  Man;  orators  like  Webster,  Burke,  Cicero,  Mirabeau,  De- 
mosthenes, flourished  in  times  of  great  national  peril  and  dis- 
aster. Tragedy  has  found  its  most  sublime  ideas  in  connection 
with  the  sufferings  and  ruin  of  heroes,  whether  of  the  natural 
or  supernatural  order. 

Beneficent  Power. —  The  sublime  of  beneficent  energy  may 
be  traced  in  the  great  agents  of  the  world  working  for  the 
good  of  mankind  —  the  sun,  the  elements,  the  forces  of  nature. 
Likewise,  beneficent  power  of  men,  angels,  and  of  God  Him- 
self. Eulogistic  literature  is  filled  with  sublime  passages  ex- 
tolling the  goodness  of  God.  The  great  storehouse  of  such 
literature  is  the  Bible.  Hebrew  writers  have  exhausted  the 
language  of  sublimity  in  praise  of  Divine  goodness.  For 
example,  read  the  "  Book  of  Psalms  "  or  the  letters  in  the  New 
Testament.  The  redemptive  work  of  God  who  took  the  chosen 
people  out  of  the  house  of  Egypt,  and  Who  afterward  brought 
salvation  to  all  mankind,  is  a  most  frequent  inspiration  to  sub- 
lime literature.  It  is  a  cherished  department  of  literary  effort 
to  grow  sublime  over  great  humanitarians  like  Solon,  King 
Alfred,  Florence  Nightingale  and  Francis  Xavier.  For  ex- 
ample, read  the  eulogistic  literature  in  the  department  of  the 
essay  and  the  oration. 

Vocabulary  of  the  Sublime. —  The  sublime  in  English  litera- 
ture has  its  own  symbols,  and  these  symbols  have  a  two- fold 
office ;  first,  an  adequate  representation  of  an  object,  situation, 
or  event  possessing  sublimity.  Bain  observes :  '  The  good- 
ness of  our  vocabulary  on  this  head  depends  upon  the  abun- 
dance and  expressiveness  of  its  words  and  phrases/*  Whether 


5o  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

for  description  of  still  life,  or  for  narrating  actions  and  events 
we  have  an  abundant  supply. 

Literature  of  the  Sublime. —  Every  nation  has  made  some 
contribution  to  the  literature  of  the  sublime.  The  Bible  takes 
first  rank  in  this  department,  inasmuch  as  the  Hebrew  writers 
and  the  Hebrew  people  were  constantly  occupied  with  thoughts 
concerning  the  supernatural  world ;  they  strove  to  find  adequate 
expression  for  the  grandeur  and  magnificence  of  deity.  Hence, 
the  constant  recurrence  of  sublime  passages  in  the  Bible.  Next 
to  the  Bible,  Milton  may  be  mentioned  for  the  element  of  sub- 
limity ;  it  is  a  distinctive  feature  of  his  great  epic  in  which  he 
has  reproduced  much  of  the  sublimity  of  Homer,  of  Virgil, 
and  the  Bible.  The  great  epics  of  the  world  are  remarkable 
examples  in  point,  and  may  be  fairly  classified  with  the  liter- 
ature of  the  sublime.  Oratory  is  a  department  of  literature 
which  deserves  special  mention  on  account  of  the  number  and 
variety  of  its  sublime  passages;  it  may  be  ranked  next  to  the 
epic.  The  speeches  of  Burke,  Webster,  Patrick  Henry,  O'Con- 
nell,  Channing,  Grattan,  Wendell  Phillips,  Erskine,  Everett 
and  many  others,  are  noteworthy  examples.  And  in  this  con- 
nection Tragedy  must  not  be  forgotten.  As  illustrations  of 
sublimity  the  dramas  of  Shakespeare  deserve  special  mention, 
especially  his  great  tragedies,  Hamlet,  Lear,  Othello,  Macbeth. 
But  sublimity  does  not  belong  to  any  single  literary  depart- 
ment; it  is  not  the  exclusive  possession  of  the  epic  or  the 
drama  or  the  oration.  As  an  element  of  art-content  it  ap- 
pears in  all  departments,  and  whenever  the  thought  justifies 
its  appearance.  Sublime  passages  may  be  found  in  the  lyric, 
in  history,  in  fiction.  Occasionally,  the  essays  of  Macaulay, 
of  Ruskin,  and  of  Newman  are  as  sublime  as  the  best  orations 
and  the  best  epic  poetry.  Emotion,  obeying  the  law  of  climax, 
will  rise  and  fall  like  the  ocean  v/ave,  and  according  to  the 
idea  with  which  it  is  associated,  will  reveal  more  or  less  sub 
limity. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ART-CONTENT   IN   LITERATURE    (CONTINUED) 
BEAUTY 

Definition. —  Beauty  is  the  second  emotional  element  of  art- 
content.  Next  to  sublimity  it  affords  the  highest  pleasure  to 
the  imagination.  But  the  emotion  it  arouses  is  not  so  violent 
as  that  of  sublimity;  it  is  of  a  calmer  kind,  more  gentle  and 
soothing.  It  does  not  elevate  the  mind  so  much,  but  produces 
an  agreeable  serenity.  Sublimity  arouses  an  emotion  too  vi- 
olent to  be  lasting ;  the  pleasure  arising  from  beauty  admits  of 
longer  continuance.  Beauty  differs  from  sublimity  not  only  in 
arousing  a  gentler  and  more  lasting  emotion,  but  also  in  the 
greater  variety  of  objects  in  which  it  is  found.  This  variety  of 
objects  is  so  great  that  no  word  in  the  language  has  a  wider 
application.  For  example,  in  the  present  instance  it  is  applied 
to  art-content :  it  may  also  be  applied  to  art- form.  It  is  de- 
fined by  Aristotle  as  that  quality  of  an  object  which  excites  gen- 
tle and  pleasurable  emotion.  This  definition  would  ascribe 
beauty  to  almost  every  external  object  that  pleases  the  eye  or 
the  ear,  to  a  great  number  of  the  graces  of  art  and  to  many 
dispositions  of  the  heart  and  the  mind.  Hence,  the  expres- 
sions—  a  beautiful  flower,  a  beautiful  building,  a  beautiful 
character. 

Chief  Divisions.—  The  chief  divisions  are :  beauty  in  nature, 
beauty  in  art.  There  are  three  sub-divisions  of  beauty  in  na- 

61 


62  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

ture,  or,  rather,  a  three- fold  natural  basis  for  beauty  —  color, 
form  or  figure,  movement. 

Color  as  a  Source. —  In  color  we  have  the  simplest  example 
of  beauty.  Colors  considered  beautiful  are  of  two  kinds.  The 
first  class  are  those  with  which  there  is  a  pleasing  association 
of  ideas.  For  example :  white,  suggestive  of  innocence ;  green, 
suggestive  of  spring  and  rural  scenes.  The  second  class  are 
those  that  appear  delicate  rather  than  gloomy.  Nature  orna- 
ments her  work  with  those  delicate  colors  which  are  the  despair 
of  the  artist.  For  example :  the  fine  coloring  of  the  morning 
or  evening  sky.  As  to  the  reason  why  color  is  thus  so  beauti- 
ful, Blair  observes :  "  Here  neither  variety  nor  uniformity  nor 
any  other  principle  that  I  know,  can  be  assigned  as  the  foun- 
dation of  beauty.  We  can  refer  it  to  no  other  cause  but  the 
structure  of  the  eye,  which  determines  us  to  receive  certain 
modifications  of  the  rays  of  light  with  more  pleasure  than  oth- 


Figure  or  Form  as  a  Source. —  Figure,  like  color,  opens  to 
us  forms  of  beauty  more  complex  and  diversified.  In  figure, 
regularity  is  the  first  source  of  beauty.  By  a  regular  figure  is 
meant  one  formed  according  to  some  certain  rule,  and  not  left 
arbitrary  or  loose  in  the  construction  of  its  parts.  For  exam- 
ple, a  circle,  a  square  or  a  hexagon  pleases  the  eye  by  its  regu- 
larity as  a  beautiful  figure.  The  second  source  of  beauty  in 
figure  is  a  graceful  variety.  It  is  a  more  fruitful  source  than 
regularity,  requiring  more  attention  in  all  works  designed 
merely  to  please  the  eye.  Plants,  flowers  and  leaves  are  full 
of  variety  and  diversity.  A  straight  canal  cannot  compare 
with  a  meandering  river.  Cones  and  pyramids  are  beautiful, 
but  trees  growing  in  their  natural  wildness  are  infinitely  more 
beautiful  than  when  trimmed  into  cones  and  pyramids.  A 
garden  is  most  beautiful  when  variety  prevails. 


BEAUTY  63 

Lines  of  Beauty. —  According  to  Hogarth,  there  are  two 
lines  upon  which  the  beauty  of  a  figure  principally  depends. 
One  is  the  waving  line  or  a  curve  bending  backwards  and  for- 
wards, somewhat  in  the  form  of  the  letter  S.  This  he  calls  the 
line  of  beauty,  and  shows  how  often  it  is  found  in  shells  and 
flowers  and  other  ornamental  works  of  nature.  It  is  also 
found  in  the  figures  designed  by  painters  and  sculptors  for  the 
purposes  of  decoration.  The  second  line,  which  Hogarth  calls 
the  line  of  grace,  is  the  same  waving  curve,  but  in  spiral  form 
around  a  solid  body.  For  example,  in  nature,  the  vine  curv- 
ing around  the  tree ;  in  art,  the  marble  thread  running  around 
the  pillar.  Twisted  pillars  are  also  examples  of  it.  Variety 
thus  plainly  appears  as  a  very  important  source  of  beauty. 
Hogarth  defines  the  art  of  drawing  pleasing  forms  to  be  the 
art  of  varying  well.  For  the  curved  line,  on  account  of  its 
perpetual  blending  and  variation,  breaks  up  the  stiff  regu- 
larity of  the  straight  line. 

Movement  as  a  Source  of  Beauty. —  Motion  of  itself  is  al- 
ways pleasing,  and  bodies  in  motion  are  preferred  to  those  at 
rest.  Movement  is  of  two  kinds  —  gentle  and  rapid.  Only 
gentle  movement  belongs  to  the  beautiful ;  when  it  is  swift  or 
very  forcible,  such  as  that  of  a  torrent,  it  partakes  of  the  sub- 
lime. For  example,  the  movement  of  a  bird  gliding  through 
the  air  is  extremely  beautiful ;  the  swiftness  of  lightning  dart- 
ing across  the  heavens  is  sublime.  Motion  in  a  straight  line  is 
not  so  beautiful  as  in  an  undulating,  waving,  direction.  And 
motion  upwards  is  more  agreeable  than  downwards.  For  ex- 
ample, the  easy,  curling  motion  of  smoke  and  flame.  Hogarth 
observes  that  in  our  daily  movements  the  business  of  life  is 
transacted  in  straight  or  plain  lines,  but  all  the  graceful  and 
ornamental  movements  are  made  in  waving  lines.  For  exam- 
ple, take  the  movement  of  persons  behind  a  counter  and  com- 
pare it  with  the  movement  of  the  same  persons  in  a  ball  room 


54  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

or  a  parlor.     The  truth  of  Hogarth's  observation  will  appear 
at  once. 

A  Combination  of  these  Sources. —  Although  color,  form 
and  movement  are  separate  sources  of  beauty  and  may  be 
treated,  each  in  a  distinct  manner,  yet  in  many  beautiful  ob- 
jects they  all  meet,  rendering  beauty  greater  and  more  com- 
plex. For  example,  in  the  morning  or  evening  sky,  the  move- 
ment vof  the  fleecy  clouds,  the  tints  of  sunlight,  the  ethereal 
forms  of  "  the  cloud-capped  towers,"  the  convex  lines  of  the 
sky.  Again,  in  a  natural  landscape  where  there  are  flowers, 
trees  and  animals,  we  have  delicacy  of  color,  gracefulness  of 
figure,  and  movement  of  bird  and  beast,  all  producing  a  pleas- 
ant emotion.  Perhaps  the  most  complete  assemblage  of  beau- 
tiful objects  that  can  anywhere  be  found,  is  presented  by  a  rich, 
natural  landscape  where  there  is  a  sufficient  variety  of  objects 
and  a  wealth  of  color,  form  and  movement.  The  beauty  of 
the  human  countenance  is  of  this  complex  kind :  it  arises  from 
color,  the  delicate  shades  of  complexion,  the  play  or  movement 
of  feature,  and  the  various  lines  that  form  the  contour  of  the 
face.  Burke  gives  the  following  summary  of  physical  beauty : 
"  On  the  whole,  the  qualities  of  beauty,  in  so  far  as  they  are 
merely  sensible  qualities,  are  the  following :  first,  to  be  compar- 
atively small;  secondly,  to  be  smooth;  thirdly,  to  have  a  va- 
riety in  the  direction  of  the  parts ;  fourthly,  to  have  those  parts 
not  angular',  but  melted,  as  it  were,  into  each  other ;  fifthly,  to 
be  of  a  delicate  frame,  without  any  remarkable  appearance  of 
strength ;  sixthly,  to  have  its  colors  clear  and  bright,  but  not 
very  strong  and  glaring,  or,  if  it  should  have  any  glaring  color, 
to  have  it  diversified  with  others."  These  are  the  properties 
on  which  beauty  depends ;  properties  that  operate  in  nature,  and 
are  less  liable  to  be  altered  by  caprice,  or  confounded  by  di- 
versity of  tastes,  than  any  other. 


BEAUTY  65 

Design  as  a  Source  of  Beauty.—  The  more  obvious  sources 
of  beauty  in  nature  are  color,  form  and  movement.  But  un- 
derneath these  causes  there  is  another  which  operates  power- 
fully in  the  same  direction.  It  is  the  beauty  of  design.  It 
arises  from  the  perception  of  means  adapted  to  some  end  or  of 
parts  adapted  to  the  plan  of  the  whole.  For  example,  in  con- 
sidering the  structure  of  a  tree  or  a  plant,  we  observe  how  all 
the  parts,  the  roots,  the  stem,  the  bark,  the  branches  and  leaves, 
are  suited  to  the  growth  and  nutriment  of  the  whole.  Simi- 
larly, when  we  examine  the  parts  and  members  of  a  living  or- 
ganism, the  happy  adjustment  of  means  to  the  end  is  at  once 
pronounced  beautiful.  The  beauty  of  design  is  present  every- 
where in  nature,  from  the  tiniest  blade  or  most  delicate  crystal 
to  the  grandest  creations  of  the  planetary  world.  The  presence 
of  design  seems  to  be  a  reflection  of  the  beauty  of  the  Eternal 
Mind  reaching  from  end  to  end  mightily  and  ordering  all 
things  sweetly. 

Design  in  Art. —  As  art  is  an  imitation  of  nature,  we  may 
expect  to  find  the  same  sources  of  beauty  in  the  one  as  in  the 
other.  To  begin  with  design :  if  we  examine  any  of  the  works 
of  art,  a  clock,  a  ship,  a  machine,  a  painting,  a  building,  a 
poem,  the  pleasure  we  have  in  the  examination  is  enhanced  by 
a  discovery  of  the  beauty  of  design,  the  adaptation  of  parts  to 
the  whole.  This  idea  of  fitness  or  design  has  an  extensive  in- 
fluence over  all  the  arts.  It  is  the  foundation  of  the  beauty 
which  we  discover  in  the  proportions  of  doors,  windows,  arches, 
pillars,  in  all  the  orders  of  architecture.  Similarly,  in  a  mas- 
terpiece of  painting,  sculpture,  poetry,  the  beauty  of  design  is 
always  apparent.  We  cannot  look  upon  any  work  of  art 
whatsoever,  without  being  led  by  a  natural  association  of  ideas 
to  think  of  its  end  and  design,  and  to  examine  the  relation  of 
its  parts  to  that  design.  And  because  design  is  fundamentally 
only  another  name  for  the  total  effect  produced  by  the  primary 


56  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

laws  of  art,  an  object  without  design  is  an  object  deformed,  ac- 
cording to  our  ideas  of  beauty. 

Design  in  Literary  Art. —  It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  in 
all  kinds  of  literary  art.  In  the  essay,  sermon,  epic,  drama, 
lyric,  we  require  a  fitness,  an  adjustment  of  means  to  the  end 
which  the  author  is  supposed  to  have  in  view.  For  let  a  de- 
scription be  ever  so  rich,  or  the  figures  ever  so  elegant,  yet  if 
they  are  out  of  place,  if  they  are  not  proper  parts  of  the  whole, 
and  clash  with  the  main  purpose  of  the  composition,  they  de- 
stroy the  beauty  of  the  work  —  nay,  they  are  converted  into 
very  .deformities. 

Beauty  in  Literary  Art. —  Beauty  is  a  term  applied  to  all 
that  pleases,  either  in  the  style,  or  sentiment,  or  from  whatever 
principle  pleasure  flows.  This  is  the  general  meaning  ap- 
plied to  the  term.  But  there  is  a  specific  meaning  whereby 
beauty  is  used  to  signify  a  certain  grace  and  amenity  in  the 
turn  of  style  and  sentiment  for  which  some  authors  have  been 
particularly  distinguished.  In  this  sense  it  denotes  a  style  nei- 
ther sublime  nor  vehemently  passionate  nor  uncommonly  spark- 
ling, but  such  as  raises  in  the  reader  an  emotion  of  the  gentler 
kind,  similar  to  what  is  raised  by  the  contemplation  of  beauti- 
ful objects  in  nature;  which  neither  lifts  the  mind  very  high, 
nor  agitates  it  very  much,  but  stirs  feeling  and  imagination  in 
an  agreeable,  while  quiet,  way.  It  is  the  poetry  of  Virgil  as 
contrasted  with  that  of  Homer,  the  prose  of  Cicero  as  com- 
pared with  Demosthenes,  the  writings  of  a  Fenelon,  an  Addi- 
son  or  an  Irving  as  compared  with  Bossuet,  Swift,  a  Burke  or 
a  Webster.  Not  that  Virgil  and  the  authors  named  are  inca- 
pable of  sublimity,  but  their  general  manner  is  distinguished 
by  the  character  of  beauty  and  grace,  and  a  quiet  charm  which 
differentiates  them  from  such  rugged,  vehement  and  sublime 
writers  as  Victor  Hugo  and  Carlyle. 


BEAUTY  67 

Beauty  of  Form  and  Content. —  Every  literary  artist  ex- 
presses the  beautiful  either  in  art- form  or  in  art-content  — • 
either  in  the  ideas  set  forth,  or  in  the  form  of  expression ;  for 
beauty  is  the  primary  object  of  all  artistic  work.  Regarding 
art-form,  Burke  writes  as  follows :  "  Words  have  a  consider- 
able share  in  exciting  ideas  of  beauty  —  they  affect  the  mind 
by  raising  in  it  ideas  of  those  things  for  which  custom  has 
appointed  them  to  stand.  Words,  by  their  original  and  pic- 
torial power  have  great  influence  over  the  passions;  if  we  com- 
bine them  properly,  we  may  give  new  life  and  beauty  to  the 
simplest  object.  In  painting,  we  may  represent  any  fine  figure 
we  please,  but  we  never  can  give  it  those  enlivening  touches 
which  it  may  receive  from  words.  For  example,  we  can  repre- 
sent an  angel  in  a  picture  by  drawing  a  young  man  winged  :  but 
what  painting  can  furnish  out  anything  so  grand  as  the  addi- 
tion of  one  word — 'the  angel  of  the  Lord'?  Is  there  any 
painting  more  grand  or  beautiful?  " 

Color  Applying  to  Words. —  Beauty  in  literary  art,  like 
beauty  in  nature,  depends  on  color,  form  and  movement. 
Color  applies  to  words.  The  English  language  possesses  a 
large  vocabulary  of  color.  First,  a  class  of  words  used  in  the 
literal  sense :  the  names  of  the  various  colors  themselves,  white, 
green,  red,  etc. ;  the  names  of  objects  suggestive  of  color,  snow, 
water,  flowers,  etc.  Secondly,  color  in  a  metaphorical  sense: 
the  personal  element  in  composition,  the  author's  personality, 
style,  sympathies,  training.  In  this  sense  color  applies  to 
art-content,  for  the  thought  of  the  composition  is  invariably 
colored  by  the  personality  of  the  author ;  it  is  also  colored  by 
the  environment  of  the  author,  and  hence  the  phrase,  local 
color,  which  is  frequently  employed  in  literary  criticism. 

Form  a  Source  of  Literary  Beauty. —  Form  in  literature,  as 
in  all  the  arts,  is  a  source  of  beauty.  The  same  rules  regard- 


68  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

ing  form  in  nature  apply  to  art-form  in  literature.  For  exam- 
ple, art-form  in  literature  is  as  beautiful  as  form  in  a  tree  or 
flower.  The  same  fundamental  laws  of  art  are  applied  —  un- 
ity, harmony,  balance,  proportion.  Besides  these,  the  many 
species  of  prose  and  verse  present  almost  as  great  variety  of 
form  as  nature  herself.  The  human  artist  approaches  the  Di- 
vine Artist  in  the  beauty  which  arises  from  a  happy  diversity 
in  his  miniature  creations. 

Movement  a  Source  of  Literary  Beauty. —  Movement  ap- 
plies  to  thought,  to  art-content.  All  kinds  of  literary  art  con- 
tain some  movement.  The  most  striking  example  is  the  ac- 
tion in  the  development  of  the  novel  or  the  drama.  Next  to 
these  rank  oratory  and  the  epic.  Movement  when  slow  in 
literature,  is  called  beautiful ;  when  rapid,  it  produces  the  sub- 
lime, like  the  stream  that  feeds  Niagara.  The  succession  of 
our  ideas,  whether  rapid  or  slow,  is  similar  to  movements  in 
nature,  and  produces  similar  effects. 


CHAPTER  IX 

ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE  (CONTINUED) 

FEELING 

Definition. —  The  third  element  of  art-content  is.  called  feel- 
ing. Some  critics  prefer  the  term  patlws.  This  element  is 
associated  with  the  thought  and  humanizes  literature  as  no 
other  element  can  do,  because  it  is  an  expression  of  the  human 
in  man.  Feeling  originates  in  the  heart  as  thought  originates 
in  the  mind.  In  its  actual  exercise  it  makes  up  a  large  amount 
of  life-interest;  hence,  its  intimate  connection  with  literature, 
which  is  the  mirror  and  reflection  of  life.  As  an  element  of 
art-content,  it  is  that  quality  of  the  thought  which  produces 
emotion  in  the  reader ;  although  in  a  wider  sense  it  belongs  to 
both  art- form  and  art-content.  In  this  general  sense  the  whole 
composition  is  intended  to  arouse  some  emotion ;  for  an  appeal 
to  the  aesthetic  sense  cannot  be  made  successfully  without  this 
corresponding  result. 

The  Basis  of  Feeling. —  There  are  three  important  relation- 
ships of  life  which  furnish  the  basis  of  feeling.  This  three- 
fold basis  represents  man  in  relation  to  the  family,  in  relation 
to  society,  and  in  relation  to  God. 

Family  Relationship. —  This  relationship  gives  rise  to 
parental,  filial  and  fraternal  feeling,  while  the  family  itself  is 
a  consequence  of  sexual  feeling  and  regard.  Parental  feeling 
holds  an  important  place  both  in  literature  and  in  life;  so,  also, 

69 


70  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

the  reciprocal  attachment  of  brothers  and  sisters.  For  ex- 
ample, the  grandest  creations  of  the  Greek  drama  depend  on 
filial  and  parental  feeling.  King  Lear  an3  Hamlet  are  admir- 
able illustrations  in  our  literature.  The  typical  embodiment 
of  the  parental  relation  is  the  regard  of  the  mother  for  her  own 
child.  The  mother  and  child,  as  exemplified  in  the  blessed  Vir- 
gin and  her  divine  Son,  have  entered  into  art  as  a  standing 
type  and  conception,  and  they  are  clothed  with  all  the  tender- 
ness and  beauty  that  the  painter  can  express  on  canvas  or  the 
sacred  poet  introduce  into  the  hymnal  of  the  church.  Liter- 
ary art  has  exhausted  its  power  of  expression  upon  the  paren- 
tal relation  which  God  holds  toward  the  human  race  and  which 
a  father  and  mother  hold  toward  the  family.  The  "  fatherhood 
of  God  and  the  brotherhood  of  man  "  is  the  ideal  that  evokes 
today  the  strongest  emotion  in  the  human  breast.  Examples 
of  this  kind  of  feeling,  are  almost  coextensive  with  literature 
itself;  for  hardly  any  class  of  artistic  work  is  attempted  with- 
out this  feeling  entering  into  a  part  of  it  or  pervading  the 
whole. 

Man  in  Relation  to  Society. —  Man  in  this  relation  excites 
feeling  according  to  the  amount  and  character  of  his  social  at- 
tachments. Friendship  is  the  first  relation;  it  is  the  attach- 
ment of  persons  not  of  the  same  family,  as  determined  by  com- 
munity of  likings.  For  example,  members  of  the  same  club, 
the  same  profession,  the  same  country.  In  the  ancient,  as  in 
the  modern  world,  this  attachment  figures  —  it  is  found  in 
life  and  in  literature.  It  was  sometimes  called  "  Platonic  love." 
For  example,  Horace  refers  to  Virgil  as  dimidium  vitae  meae. 
"  David  and  Jonathan  "  is  an  example  from  Holy  Writ.  Ci- 
cero's attachment  to  Atticus  has  added  to  the  wealth  of  classic 
literature  In  the  modern  world  we  have  Moore  and  Byron; 
Newman  and  Faber ;  Goethe  and  Schiller.  Perhaps  the  most 
striking  example  of  modern  times  is  the  friendship  of  Tenny- 


FEELING  7I 

son  for  Arthur  Hallam,  a  classmate  at  Cambridge.  This 
friendship  enriched  our  literature  with  the  In  Memoriam — 
a  poem  unique  in  subject  matter,  but  unrivaled  as  a  work  of 
literary  art.  Friendship,  as  a  rule,  does  not  evoke  the  strong 
emotion  which  pervades  the  In  Memoriam.  Cicero's  De  Ami- 
citia  is,  on  the  whole,  a  more  iust  expression  of  it. 

Attachment  to  Country. —  Patriotism  is  stronger  than 
friendship;  the  emotion  which  it  evokes  is  deeper  and  more 
abiding,  for  all  nations  agree  with  the  orator :  Dulce  et  decorum 
est  pro  patriot  mori  —  it  is  a  sweet  and  a  beautiful  thing  to  die 
for  one's  country.  Literary  art  owes  a  large  debt  to  patriotic 
feeling,  especially  the  department  of  the  lyric  and  of  oratory. 
Many  of  the  masterpieces  of  prose  and  verse  are  inspired  by 
this  feeling;  and  all  writers  of  note  have  given  some  expres- 
sion to  it.  After  one's  home,  one's  country  stirs  the  deepest 
emotion.  The  Teutonic  and  Celtic  races  are  remarkable  for 
their  love  of  country.  All  forms  of  literary  art  are  used  as 
the  vehicle  of  this  universal  feeling. 

Religious  Feeling. —  This  feeling,  like  patriotism,  is  univer- 
sal. In  its  ideal  form  it  consists  of  love  of  God  and  love  of 
man  for  His  sake.  It  is  the  substance  of  the  answer  to  the 
question,  "  What  is  the  great  commandment  of  the  law  ?  " 
This  feeling  resembles  that  of  a  child  toward  its  parent ;  it  is 
based  on  a  recognition  of  divine  goodness  and  protection. 
From  this  point  of  view,  God  is  a  benign  parent.  He  is 
treated  as  an  object  to  inspire  love  and  affection ;  His  gifts  and 
goodness  evoke  the  strongest  feeling  of  which  the  human  heart 
is  capable.  The  form  of  literary  art  best  adapted  to  religious 
feeling  is  the  lyric.  For  example,  the  Book  of  Psalms,  the 
various  hymnals  used  by  Christian  denominations ;  such  works 
as  Keble's  Christian  Year.  Similarly,  this  feeling  has  an  out- 
let in  oratory,  as  the  large  amount  of  sermon  literature  bears 


~2  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

witness;  the  Christian  pulpit  is  aglow  with  the  emotion  in- 
spired by  Christ,  the  Savior,  Who,  because  He  was  human  as 
well  as  divine,  makes  the  strongest  appeal  to  human  love  and 
affection;  His  sufferings  and  death  manifest  God's  goodness 
in  a  special  manner.  Milton's  Paradise  Regained  deals  ade- 
quately with  this  theme;  Tasso  and  Dante,  likewise,  have 
treated  it.  The  great  religious  writers  of  every  age  and  na- 
tion never  weary  of  it,  for  to  the  believer  it  is  an  inexhaustible 
fountain  of  the  keenest  emotion. 

Love  as  a  Source. —  Love,  as  between  man  ana  woman,  is 
called  the  master  passion  of  the  heart.  It  is  the  "  cords  of 
Adam  "  binding  the  sexes  together  and  insuring  the  futurity 
of  the  race.  It  has  found  the  most  varied  expression  in  art; 
it  is  called  the  "  everlasting  theme  "  in  literature.  Browning 
calls  it  "  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world,"  and  devotes  most 
of  his  poetry  to  proofs  of  the  assertion.  This  tender  feeling 
has  inspired  what  is  known  as  erotic  literature.  Literary  art 
puts  in  the  foreground  a  description  of  the  object;  this  in- 
cludes, first  of  all,  the  personal  charms  of  each  lover,  their 
mental,  moral  and  physical  excellence,  their  reciprocal  liking; 
secondly,  the  beauty  and  charm  of  their  surroundings  —  all  that 
department  of  nature  akin  to  affection,  such  as  birds,  flowers, 
streams,  trees,  the  scenery  of  repose  and  quiescence,  which  re- 
flects the  feelings  of  the  entranced  lovers;  thirdly,  the  utter- 
ances of  the  lovers  themselves,  ideas  and  words  athrill  with 
emotion.  As  love  is  the  master  passion,  it  is  more  strongly 
expressed  than  any  other  feeling.  The  passionate  intensity 
of  love  has  taxed  the  capacity  of  language.  It  requires  im- 
agery both  intense  and  original.  As  this  passion  often  rises 
to  the  heroic  and  sinks  to  the  tragic,  it  is  frequently  the  in- 
spiration of  the  drama.  For  example,  Antony  and  Cleopatra, 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  Heloise  and  Abelard.  In  this  connection 
the  greatest  interest  lies  in  the  plot.  No  other  variety  of  ten- 


FEELING  73 

der  feeling  is  so  well  suited  to  give  fascination  to  plot.  Hence, 
love  is  the  main  theme  of  the  dramatist  and  novelist.  Parental 
feeling  is  strong,  but  the  possibilities  of  plot  are  not  so  numer- 
ous as  in  courtship. 

Ancient  and  Modern. Treatment.— Tender  feeling  and  senti- 
ment between  the  sexes  did  not  reach  its  highest  development 
in  ancient  literature.  Love  was  second  to  war  in  interest,  al- 
though it  claims  some  attention.  For  example,  Helen  in 
Homer ;  Dido  in  Virgil.  But  war,  nevertheless, —  "  arms  and 
the  man  " — ,  was  the  main  theme.  The  great  tragedians  of 
Greece  made  their  plots  turn  on  the  element  of  strife  and  hatred 
rather  than  love ;  they  introduced  female  characters  like  Antig- 
one, but  these  did  not  appear  in  love-relationships.  The  be- 
ginning of  erotic  art  in  Greece  was  in  the  lyric  field;  and  the 
first  great  example  was  the  renowned  Sappho.  Then  followed 
Theocritus,  and  Bion.  The  Greek  anthology  forms  quite  a 
volume  of  erotic  literature.  Among  the  Latins,  Catullus,  Ovid, 
Horace,  and  Propertius  make  love  their  main  theme.  Like  the 
Greek  writers,  the  Latins  were  all  licentious.  Hence,  the  ne- 
cessity for  expurgated  editions  of  the  classics.  Virgil  is  per- 
haps the  cleanest  of  the  classic  writers.  The  most  remarkable 
love-poem  of  antiquity  is  "  Hero  and  Leander  " ;  it  was  written 
during  the  decadence  of  Greek  literature.  It  has  much  of  the 
merit  of  the  Biblical  love-story  —  the  story  of  Ruth.  But  the 
licentious  Pagan  who  deified  lust,  failed  to  treat  love  in  a  man- 
ner which  would  reflect  credit  on  human  nature.  It  remained 
for  Christian  influence  to  redeem  Pagan  morality  and  sanctify 
love  in  the  marriage  bond.  As  we  approach  modern  times 
love  becomes  a  more  important  element  in  literary  art.  The 
literary  treatment  of  it  was  purified  by  chivalry  and  Christian- 
ity. The  Troubadours  in  France;  Dante,  Petrarch,  Boccaccio; 
Ariosto  and  Tasso,  are  evidences  of  its  growing  importance. 
In  England,  Chaucer  was  the  earliest  erotic  poet.  Spenser 


74  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

worked  at  the  same  theme.  It  remained  for  Shakespeare  to 
eclipse  all  his  predecessors  in  writing  of  love.  It  inspires  the 
largest  part  of  modern  English  fiction,  and  with  religious  feel- 
ing divides  the  honors  of  the  lyric  field. 

Summary. —  The  realm  of  feeling  is  as  large  as  life  itself, 
the  main  channels  of  which  —  the  family,  society,  country  and 
creed  —  have  been  indicated.  In  relation  to  art-content,  it  is 
the  element  sought  whenever  literature  is  read.  Cor  ad  cor 
loquitur.  The  heart  of  the  reader  seeks  the  heart  of  the  writer 
in  the  thoughts  touched  with  emotion.  It  is  the  presence  of 
this  element  in  oratory,  which  moves  an  audience  to  the  accept- 
ance of  truth.  "  There  can  be  no  eloquence,"  says  Matthews, 
"  without  deep  feeling.  Thoughts  must  come  red-hot  from 
the  heart.  It  is  not  enough  for  the  orator  to  have  the  ordinary 
passions  of  our  nature;  he  must  be  a  magazine  of  sensibility, 
an  electric  battery,  a  Leyden  jar,  charged  to  a  plenum ;  he 
must  have  an  abnormal  emotional  system  united  with  the  men- 
tal —  a  rare  depth  and  fire  of  nature."  Emotion  is  the  life 
the  very  soul  of  the  lyric.  Take,  for  example,  "  Lead  Kindly 
Light,"  or  "  The  Holy  City,"  and  note  the  contagious  feeling 
which  exhales  from  each  line  and  thought.  Some  patriotic 
lyrics  have  all  the  power  of  a  charm  or  incantation,  owing  to 
this  element  of  art-content.  The  novel  and  the  drama  are 
filled  with  it;  and  although  history  aims  at  an  unemotional 
style,  the  thoughts  themselves  dealing  with  one's  own  country, 
its  sorrows  and  joys,  must  excite  the  deepest  emotion. 

Literary  Examples. —  QEnone,  Antigone,  Job,  Menelaus, 
Dido,  Hero,  Romeo,  Jeptha,  King  John,  The  Virgin  Mary, 
Desdemona,  Cordelia,  King  Arthur,  Hallam,  Prometheus,  the 
Redeemer  of  Mankind.  (For  a  full  list  of  classic  themes  in- 
volving deep  feeling,  see  Bain,  Rhetoric,  Part  II.) 


CHAPTER  X 
ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE  (CONTINUED) 

WIT  AND  HUMOR 

Wit  and  Humor. —  These  elements  of  art-content  are  so  near- 
ly allied  in  meaning,  they  must  be  treated  together.  They  are 
in  reality  two  species  of  the  same  element,  and  they  have  this 
characteristic  in  common,  they  arise  out  of  some  kind  of  in- 
congruity, some  form  of  contrast.  Wit  is  more  purely  intel- 
lectual than  humor.  The  word,  wit,  is  derived  from  the  Saxon, 
wit'in,  and  primarily  it  meant  intellect.  In  the  time  of  Shakes- 
peare and  Pope  it  was  a  synonym  for  mental  power.  Drydcn 
defined  wit  as  thoughts  and  words  elegantly  adapted  to  the  sub- 
ject. Wit  has  a  narrower  meaning  now.  In  its  modern  sense, 
as  defined  by  Locke,  it  is  the  faculty  of  associating  ideas  in  a 
new  and  unexpected  manner,  the  power  of  invention,  continu- 
ance, and  ingenuity.  Humor,  on  the  other  hand,  is  more  ele- 
mental, more  persuasive,  more  a  matter  of  character  and  tem- 
permanent.  While  wit  is  allied  to  talent,  humor  partakes  of 
the  wider  reach,  the  ampler  flow,  the  deep  unconsciousness  of 
genius.  Wit  is  the  swift  play  and  flash  of  mind ;  humor  flows 
from  character,  it  is  an  expression  of  character,  and,  next  to 
feeling,  the  most  thoroughly  humanizing  element  in  literary 
art.  As  Pater  describes  it,  humor  is  the  expression  of  the 
whole  nature  of  man,  it  is  full  of  heart,  it  has  tenderness,  sym- 
pathy, piety,  sadness;  and  the  laughter  it  evokes  is  without 
malice  or  bitterness. 


75 


^5  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

Examples. —  Cervantes  and  Shakespeare  may  be  taken  as 
models  in  the  use  of  both  wit  and  humor.  The  wit  of  Dean 
Swift  and  Daniel  O'Connell  is  almost  proverbial;  although  in 
the  former  it  was  associated  with  a  keen  and  biting  sarcasm, 
and,  at  times,  with  a  most  repulsive  vulgarity.  Some  authors 
temper  this  element  of  art-content  with  a  kindly  feeling  —  as 
Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  Addison,  Burns,  Scott.  Other  writers, 
like  Swift,  Pope  and  Voltaire,  mix  with  it  a  fund  of  bitterness 
and  malignity. 

The  Basis  of  Wit. —  In  its  most  distinctive  feature,  wit  is  a 
play  upon  words,  owing  to  the  many  meanings  attached  to  the 
same  word.  The  ingenuity  which  some  writers  display  in  this 
work  is  remarkable.  Often,  too,  it  degenerates  into  unpardon- 
able silliness,  especially  in  conversation.  The  punster  becomes 
an  inveterate  bore.  The  paradox  like  the  pun  lies  at  the  foun- 
dation of  wit ;  it  is  a  proposition  which  contains  some  apparent 
and  startling  contradiction  —  what  oft  was  thought  but  ne'er 
so  well  expressed.  A  brilliant  simile  or  metaphor  is  most  fre- 
quently the  basis  of  wit,  for  there  is  no  better  way  afforded  to 
express  incongruities.  For  example,  "  Bright  like  the  sun 
her  eyes  the  gazers  strike,  and  like  the  sun  they  shine  on  all 
alike." 

Mistakes  Regarding  Its  Use.— Bain  points  out  three  vices 
in  this  connection.  First,  coarseness.  The  search  for  witti- 
cism has  to  be  controlled  by  refinement  or  delicacy  Some  of 
the  greatest  wits  have  over-stepped  this  boundary,  such  as 
Aristophanes  among  the  ancients;  Rabelais,  Swift  and  Pope 
among  moderns.  Secondly,  obscurity.  Like  every  other  ef- 
fect of  style,  wit  must  be  intelligible  to  those  addressed.  Far- 
fetched allusions  are  condemned,  whatever  be  their  purpose. 
Thirdly,  excess.  In  constantly  aiming  at  wit,  the  greatest  risk 
is,  the  tendency  toward  overdoing  it.  Like  all  striking  effects, 


// •/'/•  JVD  HUMOR  jj 

it  palls  by  too  much  repetition,  and  the  torturing  of  language 
may  be  carried  to  a  point  where  meaning  is  wholly  sacrificed. 

Wit  of  Different  Peoples.— All  nations  possess  wit  in  some 
measure,  for  it  is  a  part  of  the  endowment  of  our  common  hu- 
man nature.  But  races  of  a  cold,  sluggish  temperament,  like 
the  Germans  or  Russians,  are  not  remarkable  for  the  gift.  It 
rather  belongs  to  the  southern  races  where  the  soul  sparkles  in 
epigram  and  paradox  and  figures  of  speech.  For  the  spright- 
liness  of  intellect  displayed  in  wit,  no  race  equals  the  Celt. 
Take  away  from  English  literature  the  Irish  and  Scotch 
contributions,  and  very  little  wit  would  be  left.  Shakespeare, 
of  course,  would  remain,  but  the  exception  only  proves  the 
rule. 

Value  of  Wit.— In  literary  art  wit  is  valuable  in  the  same 
way  that  spice  is  valuable  in  food  —  it  gives  a  certain  flavor 
and  piquancy  not  otherwise  obtainable.  It  creates  laughter, 
and  this  has  a  wholesome  emotional  effect.  It  brightens  many 
a  literary  page  just  as  it  brightens  many  a  life.  From  some 
kinds  of  literary  art  it  is  rigidly  excluded,  owing  to  the  seri- 
ousness of  the  subject-matter.  It  is  a  powerful  weapon  in  de- 
bate, often  winning  where  heavy  argument  fails,  like  the 
pebble  in  David's  sling.  In  common  with  humor,  it  claims 
comedy  as  its  special  literary  channel. 

The  Basis  of  Humor. —  Like  wit,  humor  rests  upon  incon- 
gruities, and  like  wit  it  excites  mirth  or  laughter.  It  depends 
upon  the  follies  and  foibles  of  mankind  —  an  unfailing  foun- 
tain of  inspiration.  It  differs  from  wit,  in  that  its  usual  ac- 
companiment is  sympathy  and  tender  feeling — an  innocent 
raillery,  a  good-natured  smile.  By  this  mixture  of  tender 
and  kindly  feeling  with  the  ludicrous  effect,  it  offends  no  one 
and  pleases  everybody.  Of  the  basis  of  humor,  Sydney  Smith 


78  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

-  himself  one  of  the  best  humorists  in  our  literature  —  ob- 
serves :  "  As  you  increase  incongruity  you  increase  humor ;  as 
you  diminish  it,  you  diminish  humor.  If  a  tradesman  of  a 
corpulent  and  respectable  appearance,  with  habiliments  some- 
what ostentatious,  were  to  slide  down  gently  into  the  mud,  and 
decorate  a  pea-green  coat,  I  am  afraid  we  would  all  have  the 
barbarity  to  laugh.  If  his  hat  and  wig,  like  treacherous  ser- 
vants, were  to  desert  their  falling  master,  it  would  certainly  not 
diminish  our  propensity  to  laugh.  But  if  he  would  sit  in  the 
mud  and  threaten  the  passers-by  with  his  wrath,  he  would  cer- 
tainly heighten  still  more  the  humor  of  the  situation." 

Humor  in  Fiction. —  Humor  plays  an  important  part  in 
fiction.  Sometimes  it  pervades  a  whole  work,  as,  for  example, 
Pickwick  Papers.  The  humor  of  Dickens  has  for  its  back- 
ground the  sorrow  and  suffering  of -the  poorer  classes;  and 
because  of  its  pathetic  associations,  is  always  tender  and  good- 
natured.  According  to  some  critics,  its  presence  in  such  abund- 
ance is  the  main  reason  why  Dickens  retains  his  hold  upon 
popular  favor.  In  like  manner,  George  Eliot,  Thackeray  and 
Hawthorne  have  used  humor  to  advantage.  In  fact,  all  our 
novelists  have  had  occasion  to  employ  it,  for  it  is  hardly  pos- 
sible to  construct  a  plot  or  describe  human  life  without  intro- 
ducing situations  which  are  humorous  in  the  extreme. 

Value  of  Humor. —  Humor  is  a  fountain  of  joy  in  life,  the 
great  redeemer  of  the  pessimist.  It  saves  the  grave  character 
from  absurdity.  It  is  a  refuge  from  crushing  care  and  calam- 
ity. It  is  the  most  useful  resource  of  men  in  whose  tempera- 
ment the  tragic  note  is  dominant.  Similarly,  it  exercises  a  re- 
deeming influence  upon  literature,  relieving  the  tediousness  of 
lengthy  narrative,  breaking  like  sunshine  through  the  rifted 
clouds  of  tragic  drama,  and  diffusing  over  the  whole  field  of 


WIT  AND  HUMOR  70 

pure  letters  a  peculiar  warmth  and  tenderness,  as  if  it  bid  us 
remember  the  human  heart  whereby  we  live. 

Comedy  in  Relation  to  Wit  and  Humor. —  Comedy  will  be 
treated  elsewhere  in  detail,  but  it  remains  to  note  here  that  this 
species  of  literature  is  the  store-house  of  wit  and  humor.  For 
comedy  is  professedly  witty  and  humorous.  The  history  of 
comedy  from  the  days  of  Aristophanes  is  one  long  effort  to 
place  upon  the  stage  the  follies,  foibles  and  idiosyncrasies  of 
mankind.  The  ways  in  which  a  man  may  make  a  fool  of  him- 
self are  countless,  and  comic  characters  have  represented  this 
type  in  every  age.  Perhaps  our  best  illustrations  are  Pickwick, 
Falstaff,  Don  Quixote.  But  comic  writers  have  not  confined 
themselves  to  the  drama  or  the  novel.  Verse  is  often  employed 
as  in  the  case  of  Moore,  Saxe  and  Holmes.  The  short  essay 
is  now  the  most  popular  vehicle.  Witness  the  efforts  of  "  Mr. 
Dooley,"  Mark  Twain  and  William  Nye  in  this  prose-form. 
The  brief  paragraph  is  the  favorite  form  in  journalism.  Some 
papers,  like  Punch,  Puck,  Judge,  and  Life,  are  made  up  of  such 
paragraphs,  and  are  devoted  exclusively  to  wit  and  humor. 
These  paragraphs  deal  with  the  oddities,  incongruities,  irrel- 
evances of  men,  and  indulge  in  all  manner  of  caricature.  The 
cosmopolitan  character  of  our  American  population  offers  a 
tempting  field  for  this  kind  of  journalism. 


CHAPTER  XI 

ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE  (CONTINUED)/ 
MELODY 

Definition. —  The  sixth  and  last  element  of  art-content  is 
melody.  It  is  defined  as  a  succession  of  musical  or  agreeable 
sounds.  It  depends  essentially  upon  tones  of  relative  pitch, 
successively  arranged.  It  is  established  by  any  particular 
rhythmic  arrangement,  as  in  some  popular  dance-times ;  by  the 
intervals  of  a  single  chord,  as  in  arpeggio  phrases;  by  a  dia- 
tonicorder,  as  in  scale  passages ;  by  the  harmonic  connections 
between  successive  chords,  as  in  simple  choral  writing.  In  re- 
lation to  composition  it  implies  rhythm  and  harmony  —  such  a 
succession  of  words  as  will  yield  agreeable  and  musical  sounds. 
It  is  present  both  in  prose  and  in  verse ;  although  poetry,  on  ac- 
count of  its  more  intimate  connection  with  music,  possesses  a 
larger  amount  of  melody  than  prose. 

Emotional  Value. —  The  emotional  value  of  music  is  so  pro- 
nounced and  so  obvious  that  no  discussion  of  it  is  needed  here ; 
and  melody  is  simply  an  identification,  more  or  less  limited,  of 
music  with  written  language.  All  good  prose  and  verse  con- 
tain melody,  without  which  their  appeal  to  the  emotions  would 
be  very  much  impaired,  if  not  entirely  lost. 

Basis  of  Melody. —  In  securing  melody,  or  a  succession  of 
musical  sounds,  a  writer  must  take  into  account,  first  of  all,  the 
letters  of  the  alphabet.  Some  letters  are  friends  of  melody; 

So 


MELODY  gr 

other  letters  are  enemies.  The  vowel  and  the  liquid  are  the 
chief  sources  of  melody;  while  the  consonant  with  no  music  in 
its  soul,  is  a  deadly  enemy.  Yet  language  could  not  maintain 
its  timbre  or  fibre  without  the  consonant ;  so  that  the  artist  must 
be  careful  to  keep  the  consonant  while  snwt luring  it  in  liquid 
and  vowel  sounds.  There  are  twenty-three  consonants,  four- 
teen vowels  in  accent,  with  the  same  out  of  accent,  in  our 
language.  Our  wealth  of  vowel  sounds  is  uncommon.  The 
harmonious  blending  of  these  letters  and  sounds  is  in  a  large 
measure  the  basis  of  melody. 

Words  the  Basis  of  Melody.— Words  are,  in  respect  to 
melody,  a  combination  of  letters ;  and  the  same  rule  applies  to 
the  word-variation.  Words  must  be  so  arranged  in  the 
sentence,  as  to  produce  a  succession  of  agreeable  and  musical 
sounds.  For  this  purpose  long  words  are  alternated  with 
short  words,  and  harsh-sounding  words  are  so  blended  with 
smooth,  liquid  ones,  as  to  be  agreeable  in  the  combined  ef- 
fect. Undeniably,  the  harsh-sounding  and  abrupt  words  are 
monosyllabic  ones  of  Saxon  origin  —  not  altogether,  but  in 
large  part.  On  the  other  hand,  the  smooth,  liquid  words  are 
pollysyllabic  and  of  Latin  origin.  Besides  the  due  alternation 
of  long  and  short,  there  should  also  be  the  due  alternation  of 
emphatic  and  unemphatic  words.  A  proper  distribution  of  em- 
phasis is  essential  to  melody.  As  Blair  remarks,  the  location 
of  the  accent  must  be  so  varied  as  not  to  offend  the  ear  by 
monotone. 

Sentences  in  Connection  with  Melody. —  Harmony  and 
rhythm  of  sentence  have  been  considered  already.  The  liter- 
ary artist  both  in  prose  and  verse  must  be  very  careful  about 
the  selection  of  words  that  will  have  a  fitness,  not  only  from 
the  view-point  of  thought,  but  also  from  the  view-point  of 
sound.  For  example,  a  word  may  exactly  express  the  thought- 


g2  ART-CONTENT  IN  LITERATURE 

connection,  but  fail  completely  to  carry  the  sentence-rhythm  — 
the  sound-connection.  To  borrow  a  figure  from  electricity,  a 
word  may  easily  break  the  circuit.  Alliteration  is  another 
source  of  melody  in  the  sentence.  It  is  used  extensively  in 
prose  and  verse.  Similarity  in  sound  arising  from  alliteration, 
makes  it  easier  to  sustain  the  melody  of  the  sentence.  But  al- 
literation is  often  carried  to  excess  as  in  the  prose  and  verse 
of  Swinburne.  It  was  carried  to  excess  by  the  Anglo-Saxons ; 
for  example,  see  Beowulf.  The  danger  from  excessive  allit- 
eration is  monotone. 

Melody  in  the  Paragraph.—  Throughout  the  paragraph  there 
is  a  larger  rhythm  than  in  the  sentence.  As  the  voice  rises 
and  falls  in  the  sentence,  so  feeling  rises  and  falls  in  ,the  para- 
graph. Its  highest  point  is  called  the  climax.  It  is  a  common 
method  of  the  literary  artist  so  to  construct  the  paragraph  that 
the  volume  of  sound  will  increase  to  the  very  end.  For  ex- 
ample, paragraphs  at  the  close  of  orations  or  at  the  close  of  sec- 
tions in  any  department  of  prose.  Of  course,  the  rhythm  and 
melody  of  the  paragraph  will  depend  upon  the  construction  of 
the  sentences  and, the  way  that  they  are  linked  and  coordinated. 
Similarly,  the  melody  of  the  whole  composition  will  depend 
upon  paragraph-linking  as  well  as  upon  the  construction  of  the 
sentence. 

Melody  in  Thought.—  Melody  is  an  emotional  element  be- 
longing to  art-content,  and  as  such  depends  upon  the  smooth 
and  musical  succession  of  ideas  as  well  as  of  words.  This  suc- 
cession must,  first  of  all,  be  logical ;  thoughts  must  be  sequent 
and  coherent,  in  order  to  furnish  a  proper  basis  for  melody. 
The  vigorous  march  of  elocution  must  be  accompanied  by  the 
vigorous  march  of  ideas.  The  two- fold  Logos  —  the  word  and 
the  idea  —  must  be  melodious.  Otherwise  the  composition  is 
vox,  ct  praeterea  nihil  Stedman  writes  that  the  very  look  of 


MELODY  83 

certain  words  conveys  certain  ideas  to  the  mind ;  they  seem  as 
entities  to  display  the  absolute  color,  form,  expression,  asso- 
ciated with  their  meanings,  just  as  their  seen  rhythm  and  mel- 
ody sound  themselves  to  the  ear  (Stedman,  Elements  of  Poetry, 
Page  174).  Of  ideas  he  might  have  written  in  the  same  vein, 
for  what  is  meant  by  a  poetic  idea  if  not  one  that  is  musical, 
melodious  at  bottom  —  their  seen  rhythm  and  melody  sound 
themselves  to  the  ear.  Inseparable  in  all  high  grades  of  liter- 
ary art,  the  musical  word  and  the  musical  idea  blend  in  a  beau- 
tiful whole.  It  is  akin  to  the  rhythm  of  nature  — "  not  a  planet, 
but  in  her  motion  like  an  angel  sings."  It  is  akin  to  the  melody 
of  life — "  not  sweet  bells  jangled,  out  of  tune  and  harsh,  but 
sweet  bells  of  one  accord,  imitating  the  music  of  the  spheres." 

General  Remarks. — All  grand  speech,  whether  in  prose  or 
verse,  is  rhythmic.  There  is  a  melody  in  the  majestic  periods 
of  a  Webster,  a  Cicero,  a  Gibbon  or  a  Macaulay,  just  as  in  the 
grand  organ-voice  of  a  Milton  or  a  Homer.  This  universal 
and  mysterious  potency  is  felt  in  all  prose  worthy  of  the  name, 
and  in  all  verse  which  deserves  the  name  of  poetry.  The  an- 
cients studied  the  melody  and  musical  effects  of  prose  with  the 
same  ardor  that  they  displayed  in  mastering  the  musical  effects 
of  poetry.  If  Cicero  be,  as  Newman  asserts,  the  greatest  mas- 
ter of  prose  composition  that  the  world  has  seen,  he  is  so  in  a 
large  measure  because  he  is  the  greatest  master  of  prose  melody- 
And  if  Newman  be  without  a  peer  in  English  prose,  it  is 
because  he  imitated  Cicero  so  closely.  But  when  the  last  word 
is  uttered  concerning  the  mere  technique  of  melody,  the  con- 
ditions under  which  it  is  present  in  prose  and  verse,  it  remains 
to  observe  that  melody  is  inborn  and  has  its  dwelling  place  in 
the  soul  of  the  artist.  Rules  may  guide,  they  cannot  create 
it;  for  it  comes  forth  with  the  ideas  of  the  true  artist,  as  light 
comes  with  the  sun.  The  supreme  artist  has  music  in  his 
soul  —  an  incommunicable  gift  of  melodious  expression. 


CHAPTER  XII 

PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

Definition. —  It  is  a  truism  that  the  personality  of  the  artist 
is  reflected  in  his  art.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  all  art  is  personal, 
in  that  it  is  some  personal  ideal  externalized  and  rendered  con- 
crete. It  is  the  thought,  the  idea,  the  concept,  of  some  indi- 
vidual made  known  in  color  or  word  or  stone.  No  matter  what 
may  be  the  medium,  the  informing  idea,  the  creative  act,  is  a 
personal  contribution  to  art.  Personality  in  literary  art  is 
quite  as  obvious  as  in  painting,  sculpture  or  music.  In  litera- 
ture it  receives  the  name  of  style,  although  the  term  is  equally 
applicable  to  all  the  arts.  For  example,  we  have  styles  of 
painting,  styles  of  architecture.  The  term  simply  indicates  the 
presence  of  personality  in  the  manner  of  artistic  expression. 
Personality  is  incapable  of  a  scientific  definition :  it  is  that  pe- 
culiar combination  of  intellect  and  imagination  plus  other  gifts 
and  soul  qualities,  which  differentiates  one  human  being  from 
another,  and  which  in  its  totality  often  gives  us  the  artistic 
temperament  and  the  artistic  genius.  A  writer  speaks  about 
the  "abysmal  depths  of  personality:"  he  might  also  speak 
about  the  abysmal  mysteries  of  personality.  For,  in  the  He- 
brew turn  of  phrase,  we  are  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made. 
But  although  personality  in  itself  cannot  be  fathomed  or  de- 
fined, nevertheless,  like  electricity,  it  may  be  known  through  its 
manifestations;  and  its  manifestation  in  literary  art  is  called 
style 

Style  in  Literature.—  Style  is  defined  as  the  peculiar  mam^r 
in  which  a  writer  expresses  his  thoughts  through  the  medium 

84 


CORRECTNESS  S- 

of  words.  It  applies  to  both  art-form  and  art-content,  for  it  is 
an  external  picture  of  the  ideas  in  the  mind  of  the  artist,  and 
of  the  order  in  which  they  exist 'there.  The  definition  of  Buf- 
fdn  that  the  style  is  the  man  is  but  another  way  of  stating  that 
a  creative  personality  is  at  work  upon  ideas  and  words,  shaping 
both  according  to  some  preconceived  plan.  Let  two  individu- 
als write  on  the  same  subject;  we  see  in  their  productions  their 
peculiar  modes  of  thinking,  the  extent  of  their  knowledge,  their 
taste  and  feeling.  The  portrait  executed  by  the  most  skilful 
painter  does  not  more  fully  represent  the  countenance  than 
the  productions  of  the  pen  exhibit  the  characteristics  of  the 
mind. 

Four  Qualities  of  Style. —  These  qualities  are  common  in 
some  degree  to  all  good  writing :  correctness,  clearness,  vivid- 
ness, iiaturalness. 

Correctness. —  It  is  a  quality  of  style  which  implies  the  use 
of  words  that  are  purely  English.  It  implies  that  these  words 
be  used  in  their  true  and  proper  sense,  and  that  the  construc- 
tion of  phrases  and  sentences  follow  the  rules  of  grammar. 
Hence,  barbarisms,  solecisms,  and  improprieties  of  all  kinds 
are  opposed  to  correctness.  Correctness  is  necessary  in  all 
kinds  of  writing  and,  although  it  is  not  regarded  as  a  high  ex- 
cellence, the  absence  of  it  is  ever  thought  disgraceful.  Incor- 
rectness in  the  use  of  words  and  in  the  construction  of  sentences 
is  evidence  of  careless  intellectual  habits  and  unfinished  educa- 
tion. Occasional  errors  are  pardoned  in  conversation,  owing  to 
hurry  of  thought  and  rapidity  of  expression ;  but  no  excuse  can 
be  offered  for  errors  in  writing,  because  there  is  sufficient  time 
for  reflection,  for  the  due  arrangement  of  thought  and  the 
right  modelling  of  expression.  Correctness  may  be  obtained, 
first  of  all,  by  writing.  "  Writing  maketh  an  exact  man." 
Such  practice  makes  us  familiar  with  the  right  use  of  words 


g5  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

and  the  correct  development  of  thought.  A  second  method 
is  extensive  reading  —  familiarity  with  the  best  that  has  been 
thought  and  written.  The  value  of  good  models  is  the  same 
in  the  studio  of  the  literary  artist  as  in  the  studio  of  the  painter. 
Our  greatest  prose  writers  —  Newman,  Ruskin,  Arnold,  Ma- 
caulay,  Lowell,  Burke,  Eliot,  Scott,  Addison,  De  Quincey  — 
ought  to  be  familiar  to  all  who  aim  at  correctness  of  style. 

Clearness. —  It  implies  that  the  expressions  used  are  such  as 
convey  the  true  meaning  of  the  writer.  Thus  defined,  it  is 
opposed  to  ambiguity,  and  obscurities  of  every  kind,  from 
whatever  source  they  may  arise.  The  value  of  clearness  is 
obvious :  we  write  in  order  to  communicate  our  thoughts  to 
others.  If  we  do  not  make  ourselves  understood,  we  fail 
of  our  object  in  writing.  The  meaning  of  a  written  passage 
should  be  so  clear  as  to  become  evident  at  the  first  glance. 
On  this  point  Quintilian  observes  that  the  meaning  of  a  written 
composition  should  strike  the  mind  as  the  light  of  the  sun 
strikes  the  eyes.  Hence,  clearness  in  style  is  a  word  similar 
in  meaning  to  transparency  as  applied  to  air,  to  glass,  or 
to  water.  Sometimes  an  exception  to  this  rule  is  allowed. 
For  example,  a  regard  for  delicacy  or  decency  precludes  the 
too  distinct  expression  of  a  thought.  Again,  certain  artists, 
like  Browning,  are  purposely  vague,  defending  the  use 
of  obscurity  on  artistic  grounds.  Occasionally,  too,  lawyers 
and  debaters  are  compelled  to  be  obscure,  owing  to  the  weakness 
of  their  side  of  the  case.  But  in  spite  of  these  exceptions,  the 
general  rule  obtains  to  speak  and  to  write  our  thoughts  in  the 
clearest  manner  possible. 

Vividness. —  This  quality  of  good  style  requires  that  the 
thoughts  be  expressed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  arrest  and  fix 
the  attention  of  the  reader.  Vividness  springs  from  a  desire 
to  awaken  interest.  Viewed  in  this  light,  it  is  an  effort  on  the 


VIVIDNESS  87 

part  of  the  writer  to  supply  in  a  written  composition  what  is 
effected  in  conversation  by  the  tones  of  the  voice  and  the 
expression  of  the  countenance.     It  is  a  quality  of  the  highest 
excellence  and  contributes  largely  to  the  success  of  the  writer. 
There  are  five  ways  of  rendering  a  style  vivid.     First,  by  the 
use  ofjy>ecific_  as  opposed  to  general  terms.     Here  we  come 
upon  the  necessity  of  using  the  Saxon  word  and  the  well- 
chosen  adjective.      Second,  by  an  ex^mo^dinary  arrangement 
of  wordsn__a_sejit£ac^.     Every  language  has  some  manner  of 
words  of  a  sentence,  which,  from  the  frequency 
of  its  occurrence,  may  be  called  its  common  or  ordinary  mode 
of  arrangement.     This  is  especially  true  of  the  English  lan- 
guage in  which  the  grammatical  construction  is  often  made 
to  depend  on  the  juxtaposition  of  words.     Vividness  is  the 
result  of  departing   from  this  common   arrangement.     It   is 
called  the  inverted  style,  more  in  vogue  in  poetry  than  in  prose, 
owing  to  a  greater  need  for  vividness.     A  third  way  of  secur- 
ing vividness  is  by  omittingLunnecesflnrY  wn'Hr  nnH  pk™g«»g  by 
cutting  out  conjunctions  like  "and";  by  multiplying  periods 
instead.     Hence,  the  use  of  the  short  clean-cut  sentence  in  the 
prose  of  modern  times.     A  fourth  way  of  securing  vividness 
is  by  climax  and  antithesis.     Climax  is  considered  a  great 
beauty  in  composition.     It  is  prominent  both  in  prose  and  in 
verse.     It  consists  in  making  the  members  of  a  sentence  rise 
and  grow  in  importance,  or  in  so  arranging  the  sentences  of 
a  paragraph  that  there  will  be  a  gradually  ascending  scale  of 
effects  to  the  very  close.     Like  climax,  antithesis  renders  a 
style  vivid.    It  is  founded  on  the  contrast  or  opposition  of  two 
objects.     It  has  this  effect  —  to  make  each  of  the  contrasted 
objects  appear  in  a  stronger  light.    It  is  employed  to  advantage 
by  the  artist  in  colors  and  in  words.     In  order  to  render  an 
antithesis  more  complete,  the  sentences  or  clauses  expressing 
the  contrasted  ideas  should  be  similarly  constructed.     Besides 
these  ways,  it  remains  to  notice  interrogation  and  repetition. 


gg  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

The  former  often  arouses  interest  by  challenging  denial.  Both 
are  favorite  methods  of  the  orator  to  drive  a  truth  home. 
Certain  kinds  of  prose  rarely  use  the  question  mark ;  the  sober 
essay  and  critical  review  have  scarcely  any  use  for  it.  A  final 
device  to  secure  vividness  is  the  treatment  of  past  events  as 
if  they  belonged  to  the  present  time,  by  changing  the  tense 
of  the  verb.  Historians  often  use  this  device  to  enliven  their 
pages.  It  may  be  used  in  many  kinds  of  descriptive  work. 

Naturalness. —  The  fourth  quality  of  good  writing  is  nat- 
uralness. It  requires  that  a  writer,  in  the  choice  of  his 
words,  in  the  form  of  his  sentences,  in  the  ornaments  he  uses, 
in  his  terms  of  thought  and  expression,  should  commend 
himself  to  every  man  of  good  sense  and  good  taste  as  having 
pursued  the  course  best  suited  to  the  subject  and  to  the  occa- 
sion. Naturalness  is  opposed  to  all  kinds  of  affectation.  There 
is  hardly  any  defect  of  style  so  painful  and  offensive  as  af- 
fectation. It  is  offensive  in  life  and  conduct,  doubly  so  in 
composition.  It  is  a  defect  peculiar  to  many  young  writers. 
The  spell  of  old  classic  writers  consists  largely  in  this  quality 
of  naturalness  and  simplicity.  Naturalness  is  sacrificed  when- 
ever there  is  an  employment  of  unusual  words  or  idioms,  a 
desire  for  excessive  ornament  or  an  attempt  to  be  forcible 
through  extravagance  of  expression. 

Various  Kinds  of  Style.—  Thus  far  we  have  seen  only  those 
qualities  which  belong  of  necessity  to  any  and  every  class  of 
good  composition.  It  remains  to  view  a  number  of  styles 
which  may  be  regarded  as  types.  While  each  individual 
writer  has  a  manner  all  his  own  in  expressing  thought,  still 
there  are  forms  of  expression  which  in  the  process  of  time  have 
become  fixed  or  crystallized.  Broadly  speaking,  there  are  a 
number  of  styles  which  the  artist  will  instinctively  employ  in 
dealing  with  certain  subjects  or  elaborating  certain  kinds  of 


THE  DIFFUSE  STYLE  fy 

thought.  Narrative,  description,  exposition,  argument,  ana- 
lytic and  synthetic  work,  will  demand  a  corresponding  varia- 
tion of  style,  regardless  of  the  manner  best  suited  to  the  genius 
of  the  writer.  In  other  words,  there  is  an  objective  as  well  as 
a  subjective  quality  of  style  in  all  art  of  the  highest  order. 
The  following  types  or  kinds  of  style  are  found  in  general  use. 

The  Diffuse  Style. —  One  of  the  first  and  most  obvious  dis- 
tinctions in  style  is  that  feature  which  arises  from  the  spread- 
ing out  of  thoughts.  This  distinction  constitutes  the  diffuse 
style.  A  diffuse  writer  unfolds  his  thought  fully;  he  places 
it  in  a  variety  of  lights,  he  gives  the  reader  every  possible 
assistance  for  understanding  it  completely.  He  is  not  careful 
to  express  it  at  first  in  its  full  strength,  because  he  intends  to 
repeat  the  impression,  and  what  he  lacked  in  strength  he  pro- 
poses to  supply  by  copiousness.  Writers  of  this  kind  generally 
love  magnificence  and  amplification.  Their  periods  run  out 
into  some  length  and  give  room  for  ornament  of  every  kind, 
which  they  admit  freely.  This  style  has  its  faults  and  ad- 
vantages. The  extreme  of  diffuseness  makes  a  composition 
weak  and  languid.  It  tires  the  reader  by  endless  paraphrase 
and  repetition.  Besides  thus  weakening  the  composition,  dif- 
fuseness is  apt  to  lead  to  a  confused  and  chaotic  development  of 
the  theme;  because  a  writer,  especially  an  inexperienced  one, 
is  likely  to  be  led  away  from  the  point  at  issue  by  a  tangled 
web  of  sentences.  On  the  other  hand,  a  reasonable  degree  of 
diffuseness  is  sometimes  required  by  the  theme.  For  example, 
in  the  works  that  appeal  particularly  to  the  intellect  and  the 
understanding  there  is  an  advantage  in  using  this  style.  Some 
matters  must  be  treated  in  the  fullest  detail.  Hence,  in  plead- 
ing at  the  bar  diffuseness  is  permissible;  also  to  the  clergyman 
in  the  pulpit,  for  ordinary  minds  are  slow  to  grasp  ideas  unless 
they  are  iterated  and  reiterated.  Exposition  of  truth  in  any 
department  requires  the  diffuse  style. 


90  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

Concise  Style. —  This  style,  as  the  name  indicates,  is  just 
the  opposite  of  diffuseness.  For  it  compresses  thought,  while 
the  diffuse  style  expands  thought.  A  concise  writer  uses 
the  fewest  possible  words.  He  employs  none  save  those  that 
are  most  expressive ;  he  lops  off  every  redundancy.  Ornament 
is  not  rejected,  but  he  uses  it  for  the  sake  of  force  rather  than 
grace;  he  never  presents  the  same  thought  twice.  His  sen- 
tences are  arranged  with  compactness  and  strength  rather  than 
with  cadence  and  harmony.  The  utmost  precision  is  studied 
in  theme.  The  faults  and  advantages  of  this  style  are  obvious. 
Too  much  conciseness  ends  in  abruptness  and  obscurity  —  it 
leads  to  a  manner  too  pointed  and  epigrammatical.  Any 
writer  who  goes  to  the  extreme  of  conciseness  offends  good 
taste  quite  as  much  as  the  man  who  would  wear  his  business 
suit  or  "  talk  shop  "  in  the  drawing  room.  But  obscurity  is  the 
great  fault  of  too  great  conciseness, .  as  it  thereby  defeats  the 
purpose  of  all  writing  —  namely,  the  communication  of  ideas. 
Horace,  the  great  literary  critic,  points  this  out :  "  Brevis  esse 
labor o,  obscurus  Ho  " — I  try  to  be  concise,  and  in  so  doing  I 
become  obscure.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  certain  advant- 
ages from  its  use,  if  conciseness  be  not  pushed  too  far.  First, 
economy  of  attention.  The  mind  is  always  delighted  whenever 
the  attention  is  economized  —  that  is,  whenever  ideas  can  be 
grasped  with  little  or  no  strain  upon  the  attention.  In  this 
connection  Herbert  Spencer  observes  that  all  writers  should 
have  this  point  —  economy  of  attention  —  in  view.  ( Spencer, 
Philosophy  of  Style.}  A  second  advantage  of  conciseness 
is  to  secure  the  direct  treatment  of  a  theme.  A  writer  cannot 
ramble  in  his  thought  if  he  must  weigh  and  economize  his 
words.  Just  as  in  writing  a  telegraphic  message,  the  cost 
of  each  word  keeps  one  from  rambling,  so  a  concise  style,  if 
adhered  to,  will  save  the  composition  from  wearisome  para- 
phrase. The  concise  style  is  sometimes  employed  in  descrip- 
tive writing,  because  it  is  brisk  and  lively.  The  strength  and 


THE  IDIOMATIC  STYLE  9! 

vividness  of  a  description  often  depend  on  one  or  two  happy 
strokes  rather  than  in  much  amplification  of  details.  This 
style  is  likewise  used  in  addresses  to  the  passions.  In  these 
addresses  it  is  dangerous  to  be  diffuse,  because  it  is  difficult  to 
support  the  proper  warmth  and  emotion  for  any  length  of  time. 
Writers  who  incline  toward  this  style  as  a  general  feature  of 
their  work,  are  Prescott,  Emerson,  Arnold,  Addison,  Steele. 
De  Quincey,  on  the  other  hand,  inclines  toward  the  diffuse 
style,  as  do  also  Macaulay,  Ruskin  and  Newman. 

The  Idiomatic  Style. —  It  is  sometimes  said  of  a  style  that 
it  is  easy  or  idiomatic.  These  epithets  are  generally  found 
together,  and  where  one  is  justly  applied,  the  other  follows  as 
a  natural  consequence.  A  style  -which  is  idiomatic  will  appear 
to  have  been  easily  practiced  and  will  be  easily  understood.  By 
an  idiomatic  style  is  meant  a  manner  of .  writing  in  which  the 
phrases,  forms  of  sentences,  and  arrangement  of  the  words  and 
clauses  are  such  as  belong  to  the  English  language.  Every 
language  has  peculiarities  of  this  kind  by  which  it  is  charac- 
terized ;  and  the  style  in  which  these  peculiarities  abound  is 
called,  idiomatic.  In  the  employment  of  the  idiomatic  style 
there  is  some  danger  lest  a  writer  becomejoose  and  slovenly ; 
although  such  a  style  is  most  strictly  correct  in  construction 
and  clear  in  meaning.  It  is  employed,  first  of  all,  in  conver- 
sation ;  for  then  our  minds  are  fixed  on  the  matter  rather  than 
on  the  form,  and  we  employ  the  natural,  idiomatic  turns  of 
phrase.  Secondly,  it  is  used  in  letter-writing,  which  in  form 
approaches  conversation ;  for  then  the  natural,  not  the  artificial, 
man  is  at  work.  There  is  a  tendency  to  employ  this  style  in 
all  modern  prose.  Our  classic  writers  are  beginning  to  appre- 
ciate the  native  idiom  more  and  more;  and  as  the  influence 
of  Latin  and  Greek  over  our  speech  is  apt  still  further  to 
decline,  we  may  expect  this  tendency  to  bec6me  mofe  and  more 
pronounced.  The  idiomatic  style  is  always  pleasing  to  the 


92  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

reader;  the  expression  is  free,  familiar;  and  the  meaning  is 
gathered  at  a  glance. 

Among  living  writers  who  are  inclined  to  use  the  idiomatic 
style,  we  may  mention  Wilfred  Ward,  William  Mallock,  Mark 
Twain,  Louise  Imogen  Guiney,  Alice  Meynell,  Thomas  Went- 
worth  Higginson,  and  a  number  of  others;  as  time  goes  on, 
this  style  is  apt  to  grow  more  and  more  in  popular  favor. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
PERSONALITY  (CONTINUED) 

The  Labored  Style. —  Opposed  to  the  easy  and  idiomatic 
manner  of  writing,  is  what  we  call  the  labored  style.  This 
style  gives  evidence  of  great  pains  on  the  part  of  the  writer  - 
the  burning  of  midnight  oil ;  and  it  requires  the  closest  attention 
and  effort  in  order  that  it  may  be  understood.  The  arrange- 
ment of  the  words  and  clauses  is  often  inverted ;  the  sentences 
are  long  and  involved;  the  whole  composition  is  highly  and 
painfully  artificial.  This  style  usually  lacks  clearness,  smooth- 
ness and  naturalness.  Three  methods  are  recommended  for 
overcoming  this  tendency  to  over-elaboration.  First,  com- 
pose with  greater  rapidity ;  ordinarily,  the  form  of  expression 
that  first  presents  itself  is  easy  and  idiomatic.  Second,  the 
writing  of  letters,  journals,  diaries,  where  less  care  is  de- 
manded. Third,  familiarity  with  writers  whose  style  is  easy 
and  idiomatic  —  such  authors  as  Goldsmith  and  Irving. 

The  Barren  Style. —  The  epithet,  barren,  applies  to  style 
when  there  is  a  nakedness  and  want  of  connection  in  the 
thoughts  and  expressions,  when  trains  of  thought  are  started 
but  only  partially  followed  out,  giving  the  composition  a  half- 
finished  character.  This  is  especially  true  of  the  paragraph 
when  dismissed  with  one  or  two  sentences.  In  this  style 
repetitions  of  the  same  words  and  phrases  are  frequent,  and 
all  that  pertains  to  the  use  of  words  and  the  form  of  ex- 
pressions is  commonplace.  Barrenness  of  style  may  owe  its 
origin  either  to  lack  of  invention,  or  to  lack  of  ideas  and  words. 

93 


Q4  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

Whenever  it  arises  from  the  former,  the  writer  is  unable  to 
trace  the  relations  between  his  thoughts ;  he  is  unable  to  make 
inferences  and  draw  conclusions.  This  defect  is  remedied  by 
maturity  and  by  discipline  of  the  mental  powers ;  also  by  prac- 
tice in  amplification.  Fabricando  fit  faber.  When  barrenness  of 
style  results  from  lack  of  ideas  and  words,  there  is  no  better 
remedy  than  the  reading  of  classic  English  writers  —  acquaint- 
ance with  the  best  that  has  been  thought  and  said,  not  only 
in  English  literature,  but  in  all  literature. 

The  Luxuriant  Style.—  This  style  is  just  the  opposite  of  the 
barren  style,  in  every  respect.  It  is  characterized  by  redundancy 
of  words  and  phrases,  especially  by  a  profusion  of  imagery, 
and  an  exuberance  of  figurative  language.  Instead  of  se- 
lecting what  is  choice  and  best  fitted  to  the  subject,  the  writer 
pours  out  all  his  wealth  of  ornament  and  expression.  He 
attempts  to  write  in  a  commanding,  imposing*  manner,  which 
takes  the  form  of  extravagant  epithets  and  figures  of  speech. 
This  style  belongs  to  youth ;  Cicero  calls  it  the  overflow  of 
youthful  feeling.  In  luxuriance  of  style,  not  only  youth,  but. 
racial  temperament  must  be  taken  into  account.  For  example, 
the  races  of  southern  Europe  as  compared  with  those  of  the 
north.  The  style  of  Italian  or  Spanish  prose  resembles  the 
gardens  of  the  tropics,  so  luxuriant  is  the  growth ;  whereas  a 
more  becoming  severity  prevails  in  northern  climes.  Three 
remedies  are  suggested  for  this  luxuriance:  First,  the  prun- 
ing-knife  —  the  removal  of  all  unnecessary  words  and  phrases. 
Often  whole  sentences  must  be  recast  with  a  view  to 
greater  simplicity.  Secondly,  careful  attention  should  be  paid 
to  metaphor  and  simile.  A  luxuriant  style  usually  offends 
against  good  taste  in  these  particulars.  Hence,  the  necessity 
of  watching  figures  in  order  that  they  may  not  accumulate 
too  rapidly;  also,  that  they  may  not  be  mixed.  The  mixed 
figure  is  always  a  sign  of  this  style.  Finally,  the  choice  of  a 


THE  FORCIBLE  STYLE  95 

topic  which  will  not  be  beyond  the  ability  of  the  writer.    Youth 
is  always  prone  to  this  error. 

The  Forcible  Style.— The  epithet,  forcible,  is  applied  to  a 
style  which  in  a  plain,  distinct  and  irresistible  manner  urges 
upon  us  the  opinions  and  views  of  the  writer.  The  forcible 
style  is  an  evidence  of  excitement.  The  writer  is  interested 
in  his  subject,  and  is  desirous  that  others  share  the  same  feel- 
ings with  himself.  It  implies  a  full  persuasion  of  the  truth, 
the  importance  of  what  is  said,  and  such  an  exhibition  of 
reasons  as  cannot  fail  to  produce  conviction.  Hence,  the  forci- 
ble style  is  dependent  in  a  great  degree  upon  intellectual  habits, 
and  implies  a  well-disciplined  mind.  It  requires  some  skill 
in  the  use  of  language,  but  derives  little  benefit  from  what  may 
be  termed  mere  ornaments  of  style.  The  forcible  style  is  well 
suited  to  the  discussion  of  political  subjects ;  and  in  the  history, 
of  our  country,  especially  in  times  of  great  popular  excitement, 
many  eminent  examples  are  found.  For  example,  in  the  Revo- 
lution, Patrick  Henry,  James  Otis,  President  Adams ;  in  the 
late  Civil  War  and  the  Abolition  Movement  that  preceded  it, 
Wendell  Phillips,  Webster,  Clay,  Calhoun ;  in  the  temperance 
movement,  John  B.  Gough,  George  Prentiss  and  others.  In 
our  late  financial  excitement,  William  Jennings  Bryan  and 
Bourke  Cochran.  All  these  men  are  shining  examples  of  the 
forcible  style.  This  style  must  often  be  employed,  not  only 
before  popular  audiences,  but  at  the  bar  and  in  the  pulpit, 
whenever  an  argument  needs  to  be  driven  home,  or  a  heated 
controversy  is  carried  on. 

The  Feeble  or  Languid  Style. — Opposed  to  the  forcible  style, 
is  what  rhetoricians  call  the  feeble  or  languid  style.  The  feeble 
style  is  indicative  of  the  whole  character  of  the  writer.  The 
man  whose  style  is  feeble  is  usually  slothful  in  his  habits  and 
inefficient  in  his  plans  and  conduct.  His  view  of  his  subject 


05  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

is  cold  and  indifferent ;  his  words  are  general  terms,  destitute 
of  vividness ;  his  sentences  are  long  and  loose,  most  likely 
to  resemble  his  trousers,  and  fitting  the  thought  quite  as  poorly. 
Literary  art  has  no  place  for  this  style,  although  it  occasionally 
creeps  in,  despite  the  efforts  of  watchful  criticism.  There  is 
a  class  of  writers  who  attempt  to  employ  force  and  vehemence 
when  their  style  is  not  supported  by  strength  of  thought  or 
real  feeling.  Their  work  is  worse  than  exhibitions  of  the 
feeble  style ;  it  becomes  rant  and  mere  declamation.  In  such 
instances  we  have  confident  assertion  instead  of  strong  reason- 
ing, and  all  the  artificial  helps  of  exclamation,  climax,  interro- 
gation, antithesis.  But  while  force  and  vehemence  of  style, 
like  a  deep  and  powerful  current,  sweep  every  obstacle  before 
them,  rant  and  declamation  are  fitly  represented  by  the  broad 
and  shallow  stream,  noisy,  but  powerless. 

The  Dignified  Style. —  The  foundations  of  an  elevated  or 
dignified  style  are  laid  in  the  thoughts.  These  thoughts  have 
more  of  originality  and  sublimity  than  those  which 
come  from  ordinary  minds.  These  thoughts  are  accompanied 
by  an  appropriate  and  sustained  emotion,  which  elevates  the 
mind  of  the  reader.  In  reading  a  production  in  an  elevated 
style,  our  attention  is  so  taken  up  by  the  thought  that  we  seldom 
have  any  regard  for  the  language ;  and  if  at  any  time  we  stop 
with  this  object  in  view,  it  is  but  to  express  our  admiration. 
The  words  used  are  admirably  suited  to  the  feelings  and 
thoughts  they  clothe.  The  selection  of  these  words  seems  not 
to  be  the  result  of  effort  and  care,  and  we  regard  them  as  the 
language  in  which  the  author  ordinarily  thinks  and  converses. 
The  sentences  are  full  and  flowing,  but  at  the  same  time, 
unlabored  and  simple  in  their  composition.  There  is  a  uniform 
dignity  about  them  which  is  characteristic  of  an  elevated  style. 
There  is  a  majesty  and  grandeur  in  the  quiet  but  resistless 
power  with  which  the  language  carries  one  along ;  as  if  we  were 


THE  PEDANTIC  OR  POMPOUS  STYLE  gj 

moving  down  some  majestic  river.  Like  the  forcible  style,  this 
style  of  writing  has  little  need  of  ornament ;  for  ornament  is 
required  to  sustain  the  common  styles  —  to  beautify  and  re- 
fresh the  deserts  of  commonplace  thought  and  expression. 
But  in  the  elevated  style  there  is  sufficient  exaltation  of  thought 
and  feeling  without  the  aid  of  ornament.  Examples  of  this 
style:  Irving,  Prescott,  Robertson,  Newman.  History  and 
biography  employ  it,  as  a  rule. 

The  Pedantic  or  Pompous  Style.— Unsuccessful  attempts 
after  the  elevated  or  dignified  manner  of  writing,  result  in 
what  is  called  the  pedantic  or  pompous  style.  The  pedant  is 
fond  of  showing  book-knowledge ;  and  a  pedantic  style  is  char- 
acterized by  the  use  of  such  terms  and  phrases  as  are  obsolete, 
uncommon,  or  derived  from  dead  languages.  And  the  style 
is  made  pompous  by  the  use  of  long,  high-sounding  words  and 
phrases.  The  young  lawyer,  preacher  or  essayist  is  often 
guilty  of  adopting  this  style ;  and  he  always  offends  good  taste 
by  his  efforts  to  appear  learned  and  weighty.  Some  literary 
men  of  high  standing,  like  James  Russell  Lowell,  Emerson, 
and  Macaulay,  often  err  on  the  side  of  pedantry.  Many  a 
writer  errs  in  the  adoption  of  a  pompous  style  which  neither 
the  subject  nor  the  writer  can  properly  sustain.  It  is  the  case 
of  the  small  boy  walking  around  in  a  man's  clothes. 

The  Neat  or  Elegant  Style.— These  terms  are  applied  to 
style  with  particular  reference  to  what  is  called  the  turn  of 
expression.  They  denote,  also,  especially  the  latter,  the  nature 
of  the  ornament  used.  Their  force  is  understood  when  they 
are  applied  to  any  production  in  the  arts.  When  so  applied, 
we  declare  that  the  work  of  art  is  not  only  free  from  faults, 
but  that  it  is  executed  in  such  a  way  as  exhibits  the  skill  of  the 
artist  and  gives  us  pleasure.  So  in  the  case  of  style.  We  say 
that  a  style  is  neat  and  elegant,  when  the  turns  of  expression 


9g  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY.  ART 

are  such  as  happily  convey  the  thoughts  and  are  well  suited 
to  the  subject  and  occasion.  The  turns  of  expression  must 
necessarily  depend  both  on  the  choice  of  words  and  the  compo- 
sition of  the  sentence.  The  neat  style  is  also  closely  connected 
with  the  thought  that  is  conveyed.  Thus,  for  example,  in  the 
forcible  or  vehement  style,  we  have  bold  turns  of  expression ;  in 
the  elevated  and  dignified  style,  we  have  sublime  and  grand 
turns  of  expression.  In  the  neat  style  there  is  simply  a  justness 
in  the  thoughts  and  a  finish  in  the  mode  of  expressing  them. 
At  the  same  time,  the  writer  is  careful  to  avoid  every  fault. 
The  neat  style,  as  thus  explained,  is  ever  pleasing ;  and  to  some 
classes  of  writing,  peculiarly  well  suited.  This  style  .differs 
essentially  from  the  easy  idiomatic  style,  because  it  gives  evi- 
dence of  labor  in  the  composition.  It  seems  the  result  to 
which  mediocrity  of  talent  has  attained  by  patient  and  praise- 
worthy exertion.  Neatness  and  elegance  in  style  demand  that 
all  coarse  and  homely  words  be  avoided,  even  though  their  use 
may  give  more  vividness  to  the  expression.  In  the  selection 
of  imagery  the  characteristics  of  this  style  are  found.  The 
imagery  selected  is  both  beautiful  and  expressive,  calculated 
to  excite  a  pleasurable  feeling.  It  is  the  imagery  chosen  by 
an  Irving  or  an  Addison.  Of  all  English  writers,  Addison  is 
perhaps  the  finest  example;  his  essays  are  models  of  neatness 
and  elegance.'  Hence,  Johnson  advises  the  English  student  to 
give  his  days  and  nights  to  the  study  of  Addison.  Besides 
these  various  styles  of  writing  which  come  from  the  various 
uses  of  words,  phrases,  sentences,  metaphors,  similes,  there  are 
four  kinds  dependent  partly  on  the  thought  to  be  expressed, 
and  partly  on  the  readers  to  whom  such  writing  is  addressed. 
These  styles  are  called  the  Intellectual,  the  Literary,  the  Im- 
passioned and  the  Popular. 

The  Intellectual  Style.—  It  is  defined  as  that  style  wherein 
the    thought    or    subject-matter    is    emphasized    more    than 


THE  INTELLECTUAL  STYLE  QQ 

the  form.  The  great  question  with  a  writer  who  employs 
this  style  is :  How  can  I  make  the  truth  intelligible?  How  can 
the  minds  of  my  readers  be  most  effectually  reached  ?  Hence, 
the  writer  emphasizes  the  intrinsic  merit  of  his  composition, 
not  this  or  that  manner.  The  writer  who  employs  the  intel- 
lectual style  feels,  first  of  all,  that  he  must  have  a  clear  and 
full  perception  of  the  truth  to  be  communicated.  He  must  be 
profoundly  convinced  that  it  is  the  truth ;  and  be  filled  with 
the  desire  to  communicate  it.  Hence,  the  intellectual  style  is 
based  on  the  essential  value  of  the  truth  as  independent  of  any 
worth  that  may  lie  in  the  special  exposition  of  it.  This  style  is 
sometimes  called  the  philosophical,  because  it  is  used  mainly  in 
philosophical  treatises;  it  is  the  style  of  Bacon,  Spencer,  Dar- 
win, Locke.  But  it  is  used  in  all  writings  .marked  by  a 
persistent  prominence  of  the  subject-matter  over  the  form. 
The  intellectual  style  is  characterized,  not  only  by  emphasis 
of  subject-matter  over  form,  but  also  by  breadth  of  view.  The 
writer  who  employs  this  style  successfully,  is  a  man  with  depth 
of  insight  and  a  wide  range  of  information.  He  is  gifted  with 
mental  many-sidedness;  and  his  readers  are  impressed  with 
the  vast  range  of  his  knowledge.  For  example,  Spencer,  Em- 
erson. The  intellectual  style  is  characterized,  not  only  by  the 
predominance  of  subject-matter  over  form,  and  comprehensive- 
ness of  view  on  the  part  of  the  writer,  but  also  by  sobriety  of 
spirit.  This  is  one  of  the  manifest  marks  of  any  writer  of 
sterling  merit,  or  any  style  of  permanent  influence.  It  is  to 
this  type  of  authorship  that  Mr.  Arnold  refers  in  his  sug- 
gestive phrase :  "  Intellectual  seriousness."  By  this  he  means 
a  sense  of  responsibility  becoming  any  one  whose  mission  in 
the  world  is  the  discovery  and  circulation  of  the  truth.  It  is 
what  Cicero  calls  that  elevation  of  spirit  and  sentiment  dealing 
with  high  themes  in  an  exalted  manner,  immeasurably  above 
all  that  is  trivial  and  common.  This  feature  of  style,  sobriety 
of  spirit  or  intellectual  seriousness,  is  ethical  as  well  as  intellec- 


I00  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

tual.  The  writer  shows  this  ethical  or  moral  value  in  various 
ways :  First,  by  an  impartial  accuracy  of  statement.  Second- 
ly, by  a  judicial  gravity  of  mind  that  will,  insure  honest 
results  in  the  face  of  temptation  to  the  contrary.  Thirdly, 
by  the  supremacy  of  judgment  over  passion,  and  by  the  su- 
premacy of  conscience  over  personal  preference.  Fourthly,  by 
a  loyal  devotion  to  the  interests  of  the  truth.  For  example, 
Edmund  Burke;  Carlyle. 

The  Literary  Style.— This  style  lies  midway  between  the 
intellectual  and  the  popular ;  it  borders  more  closely  upon  the 
former  than  the  latter.  It  is  called  literary  because  it  is  the 
style  in  which  literature,  strictly  so-called,  is  expressed;  it  is 
the  style  of  the  library  and  the  man  of  letters.  On  the  one 
side,  it  is  far  removed  from  the  scientific,  technical  and  specu- 
lative manner  of  expression.  On  the  other  side,  it  carefully 
excludes  the  ordinary  and  the  commonplace.  For  in  this  style 
is  reflected  the  best  literary  art  and  taste.  This  style  is  most 
strongly  emphasized  in  the  golden  ages  of  letters.  For  exam- 
ple, the  Age  of  Pericles  in  Greece;  the  Augustan  Age;  the  Age 
of  Louis  XIV;  the  Age  of  Elizabeth. 

Some  Features  of  this  Style. —  First,  ease  and  flexibility. 
There  is  at  all  times  the  evidence  of  fluency  and  facility  of 
touch.  The  impression  is  that  the  writer  has  a  vocabulary 
more  than  sufficient  for  all  demands.  There  is  also  a  freedom 
of  mental  movement ;  the  thought  easily  adapting  itself  to  the 
ever  changing  temperament  of  the  author.  There,  is  nothing 
rigid,  conventional  or  academic.  It  is  the  special  charm  of 
the  essays  of  Lamb  and  of  Addison.  In  addition  to  ease  and 
flexibility  we  may  note  a  further  and  most  significant  element 
of  the  literary  style  —  its  artistic  finish.  Form  and  thought 
are  quite  distinct  in  literary  art,  and  it  is  true  to  say  that 
there  is  such  a  feature  of  style  as  grace  and  beauty  of 


THE  IMPASSIONED  STYLE  IOI 

form  —  an  outward  attractiveness  differing  -in*  character  and 
independent  of  the  subject-matter  itself.  •  Arttf.'tbis:  outward 
attractiveness  is  especially  emphasized  in  what  is  called  the 
literary  style.  In  a  word,  the  element  of  correct  and  disciplined 
taste  enters  as  an  integral  factor;  and  where  it  is  especially 
prominent,  makes  the  style  literary  rather  than  intellectual. 
For  example,  in  the  writings  of  Ruskin  or  of  Hawthorne, 
where  the  subject-matter  is  set  forth  in  a  way  satisfactory  to 
the  demands  of  the  most  sensitive  taste. 

The  Impassioned  Style.—  By  the  impassioned  style  is  meant 
a  manner  of  writing  which  is  emotional,  persuasive,  fervid ; 
appealing  not  so  strongly  to  the  intellect  and  aesthetic  sense  as 
to  the  passions.  Hence,  the  impassioned  style  differs  ma- 
terially from  the  intellectual  and  the  literary  style.  This  is 
the  favorite  style  among  forensic  writers ;  it  is  the  style  of  the 
orator :  for  example,  in  history,  Carlyle's  "  French  Revolu- 
tion " ;  in  fiction,  Walter  Scott's  "  Heart  of  Midlothian."  It 
has  no  place  in  scientific  or  philosophical  works.  Three  ele- 
ments are  found  in  this  style  of  writing:  First,  the  element  of 
passion.  It  is  from  this  element  that  the  name  of  the  style 
is  derived.  This  element  indicates  that  the  heart  is  engaged 
as  well  as  the  head ;  that  emotion  is  allied  to  thought ;  that 
there  is  something  more  in  view  than  mere  instruction  or  enter- 
tainment. This  element  is  called  the  lyric  element  of  prose 
expression,  because,  like  the  lyric  in  verse,  it  is  an  appeal  to 
the  emotions —  it  stirs  our  feeling.  For  example,  Speeches  of 
Webster,  Burke,  Cicero.  The  second  element  of  the  impas- 
sioned style  is  personality.  Personality,  while  it  is  exhibited 
in  all  styles,  is  more  pronounced  in  this  style  than  in  any  other. 
The  individual  aims  at  leaving  an  impression.  Hence,  the 
great  orators  of  the  world  have  been  invariably  men  of  great 
personality.  The  third  and  final  element  of  the  impassioned 
style  is  power.  By  this  element,  the  emotion  felt  by  the  writer 


I02  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

is  transferred  'to  -'the  'reader.  De  Quincey  calls  the  class  of 
litef^tur«rc{apat)le  of  (so  arousing  the  reader  the  literature  of 
power.  '  Power  is  allied  to  personality.  It  is  personality  act- 
ing, or  in  a  transitive  state.  But  it  is  larger  in  scope,  for  it 
implies,  not  only  personality,  but  also  a  mastery  of  the 
cogent  elements  of  expression.  In  other  words,  the  medium 
of  the  thought  —  the  language  —  must  be  so  handled  as  to 
permit  the  burning  thoughts  of  the  writer  to  set  the  reader  or 
hearer  afire.  For  example:  Webster's  Reply  to  Hayne;  Pat- 
rick Henry's  Speech ;  Burke  on  Warren  Hastings. 

The  Popular  Style. —  By  the  popular  style  is  meant  one  that 
is  not  altogether  unintellectual  or  unliterary  or  unemotional ; 
but  one  that  is  not  distinctly  marked  by  any  of  these  character- 
istics. For  some  degree  of  mental  excellence  as  of  literary  and 
persuasive  excellence  it  must  possess  in  order  to  be  assigned 
a  place  among  the  prominent  classes  of  English  style.  But  it 
reaches  the  level  of  the  common  people  by  presenting  these 
qualities  in  a  modified  degree.  It  is  called  popular  for  three 
reasons :  First,  because  it  is  so  easily  understood ;  it  appeals 
to  the  average  intellect  and  the  common  people.  Hence,  in 
the  popular  style  both  words  and  thoughts  are  plain,  simple, 
easily  grasped.  Secondly,  it  is  called  popular  because  it  is 
practical.  The  term  practical  is  opposed  to  theory,  specula- 
tion, mere  scholarship  as  such.  Hence,  the  themes  treated  in 
this  style  are  those  having  a  practical  bearing,  those  in  which 
the  general  mass  of  mankind  feel  the  keenest  interest.  And 
in  the  manner  of  treatment  the  author  is  careful  to  use  only 
those  expressions  and  illustrations  which'  appeal  to  the  multi- 
tude. For  example,  William  Jennings  Bryan,  in  his  treatment 
of  the  money  question.  The  various  sciences  are  thus  popu- 
larized. Thirdly,  the  popular  style  is  unmethodical  and  ram- 
bling. There  is  no  close  consecutive  reasoning,  no  attempt  at 
artistic  development  in  sentence  or  paragraph.  The  writer  is 


CONCLUDING  REMARKS 

governed  by  the  impulse  of  the  moment  rather  than  by  law 
or  logic  or  careful  preparation.  Hence,  it  is  sometimes  called 
the  capricious  or  extemporaneous  style  of  writing.  Reminis- 
cences, memoirs,  speeches  to  the  multitudes,  popularized 
science,  all  kinds  of  letters  and  miscellaneous  writing.  Irv- 
ing's  "Sketch-Book";  Bunyan's  "Pilgrim's  Progress"; 
Holmes'  "  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table." 

Concluding  Remarks. —  The  different  styles  of  writing  thus 
far  reviewed  indicate  the  presence  of  personality  in  literary  art ; 
they  reflect  the  scholarship,  the  imagination,  the  intellect,  and 
the  peculiar  temperament  of  the  artist.  But  aside  from  the 
phenomena  which  may  be  classified,  and  which  give  to  us  the 
barren,  concise,  luxuriant  and  other  styles  of  writing,  there 
remains  an  indefinable  element,  felt  rather  than  understood  or 
named,  which  makes  a  certain  piece  of  literary  art  the  author's 
own;  and  we  have  no  other  way  to  designate  it  except  by 
naming  it  after  the  person  of  the  artist.  Thus,  for  example, 
we  call  a  piece  of  work  Tennysonian,  Shakespearian,  Baconian, 
because  the  personality  of  the  author  is  indelibly  stamped  upon 
it.  It  is  the  incommunicable  power  supplied  by  every  artist 
that  enters  into  every  masterpiece.  It  is  the  most  elusive  and 
intangible  element  in  art;  yet  upon  its  presence  and  discovery 
much  of  our  pleasure  depends.  After  art-form  and  art-con- 
tent are  analyzed  and  the  results  tabulated,  this  elusive  element 
remains  —  the  personal  impress  which  an  artist  inevitably  sets 
upon  his  production  —  an  impress  which  yields  as  many  styles 
as  there  are  individual  artists,  for  the  hackneyed  saying  of 
Buffon  is  true :  "  The  style  is  the  man."  In  describing  how  this 
individuality  affects  writing.  Pater  observes :  "  The  ways  in 
which  individuality  shows  itself  are  numerous.  Each  writer, 
for  instance,  may  be  said  to  make  his  own  vocabulary ;  he  con- 
sciously increases  his  knowledge  of  words,  deliberately  chooses 
certain  terms  for  particular  uses,  and  carefully  decides  upon 


I04  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

the  special  term  which  in  each  case  seems  to  him  best  adapted 
to  convey  his  meaning.  Besides  this,  he  unconsciously  has 
a  preference  toward  this  word  or  that ;  he  is  influenced  by  asso- 
ciation, by  the  suggestions  which  are  aroused  in  his  mind  by 
this  synonym  or  that,  and  is  in  every  decision  swayed  in  one 
direction  or  another  by  the  fineness  of  his  perceptions,  the 
nature  of  his  temperament,  and  by  all  those  minute  and  mingled 
elements  which  make  up  what  we  know  as  character.  All 
these  conscious  and  all  these  unconscious  causes  help  to  bring 
it  about,  that  every  writer  shall  make  for  himself  what  Walter 
Pater  calls  a  vocabulary  faithful  to  the  coloring  of  his  own 
spirit;  and  the  same  principle  may  be  traced  through  all  the 
divisions  of  literary  art,  whether  they  be  of  structure  or  of 
quality."  Walter  Pater  in  his  "  Essays  on  Style  "  lays  stress 
upon  the  presence  of  mind  in  literary  art :  it  is  the  individual 
characteristic  according  to  which  art  must  be  judged.  "  I 
call  the  necessity  of  mind  in  style,  that  architectural  conception 
of  work,  which  foresees  the  end  in  the  beginning  and  never 
loses  sight  of  it,  and  in  every  part  is  conscious  of  all  the  rest, 
till  the  last  sentence  does  but,  with  undiminished  vigor,  unfold 
and  justify  the  first.  This  is  the  more  intimate  quality  of 
good  style,  to  which  the  aptitudes  of  the  medium  and  the 
ornaments  of  scholarship  are  both  subservient.  For  all  art 
requires  always  its  logic,  its  comprehensive  reason  —  insight, 
foresight,  retrospect,  in  simultaneous  action."  According  to 
Pater,  individuality  is  expressed,  not  only  by  the  presence  of 
mind,  but  by  the  presence  of  soul  also.  He  ascribes  to  mind 
the  plan,  the  architecture  of  literary  art;  to  soul  he  ascribes 
an  immediate  sympathetic  contact;  by  soul  the  artist  reaches 
us  through  sympathy  and  a  kind  of  immediate  contact.  It  is 
the  emotional  element  united  to  the  logical  or  architectural 
element ;  through  this  quality  of  soul  you  recognize  the  person 
in  the  book  —  you  feel  the  personality  of  the  artist.  The  fol- 
lowing descriptions  of  the  perfect  artist  may  fittingly  close  this 


CRITICISM  BY  CARDINAL  NHH'MAN 


discussion  :  one  is  from  the  pen  of  Herbert  Spencer  ;  the  other 
from  Cardinal  Newman.  Spencer  writes  :  "  When  the  powers 
of  speech  are  fully  developed,  and  the  ability  of  the  intellect  to 
utter  the  emotions  is  complete,  then  fixity  of  style  will  dis- 
appear; the  perfect  writer  will  express  himself  as  Junius,  when 
in  the  Junius  frame  of  mind  ;  when  he  feels  as  Lamb  felt,  will 
use  a  like  familiar  speech  ;  and  will  fall  into  the  ruggedness  of 
Carlyle  when  in  a  Carlylean  mood.  His  mode  of  expression 
will  naturally  respond  to  his  state  of  feeling,  and  there  will 
flow  from  his  pen  a  composition  changing  to  the  same  degree 
that  the  various  aspects  of  his  subject  change."  Cardinal 
Newman  writes: 

Criticism  by  Cardinal  Newman.  —  "  The  art  of  letters  is  the 
method  by  which  a  speaker  or  writer  brings  out  in  words  worthy 
of  his  subject  and  sufficient  for  his  audience  or  readers  the 
thoughts  which  impress  him.  Literature  is  therefore  of  a  per- 
sonal character;  it  consists  in  the  enunciations  and  teachings  of 
those  who  have  a  right  to  speak  as  representatives  of  their  kind, 
and  in  whose  words  their  brethren  find  an  interpretation  of 
their  own  sentiments,  a  record  of  their  own  experiences,  and 
a  suggestion  for  their  own  judgments.  A  great  author  is  not 
one  who  merely  has  a  copia  verborum,  whether  in  prose  or  in 
verse,  and  can,  as  it  were,  turn  out  at  his  will  any  number  of 
splendid  phrases  and  swelling  sentences  ;  but  he  is  one  who  has 
something  to  say,  and  knows  how  to  say  it.  I  do  not  claim  for 
him,  as  such,  any  great  depth  of  thought,  or  breadth  of  view,  or 
philosophy,  or  sagacity,  or  knowledge  of  human  nature,  or  experi- 
ence of  human  life,  though  these  additional  gifts  he  may  have, 
and  the  more  he  has  of  them,  'the  greater  he  is  ;  but  I  ascribe  to 
him.  as  his  characteristic  gift,  in  a  large  sense  the  faculty  of 
expression.  He  is  master  of  the  twofold  Logos,  the  thought  and 
the  word,  distinct,  but  inseparable  from  each  other.  He  may, 
if  so  be,  elaborate  his  compositions,  or  he  may  pour  out  his  impro- 
visations; but  in  either  case  he  has  but  one  aim  which  he  keeps 
steadily  before  him  and  is  conscientious  and  single-minded  in  ful- 
filling. That  aim  is  to  give  forth  what  he  has  within  him  ;  and 
from  his  very  earnestness  it  comes  to  pass  that,  whatever  be  the 


I06  PERSONALITY  IN  LITERARY  ART 

splendor  of  his  diction  or  the  harmony  of  his  periods,  he  has 
within  him  the  charm  of  an  incommunicable  simplicity.  What- 
ever be  his  subject,  high  or  low,  he  treats  it  suitably  and  for  its 
own  sake.  If  he  is  a  poet,  nil  moliter  inepte.  If  he  is  an  orator, 
then,  too,  he  speaks  not  only  distincte  and  splendide,  but  also, 
apte.  His  page  is  the  lucid  mirror  of  his  mind  and  life.  .  .  I 
He  writes  passionately  because  he  feels  keenly ;  forcibly,  because 
he  conceives  vividly,  he  sees  too  clearly  to  be  vague ;  he  is  too  seri- 
ous to  be  otiose;  he  can  analyze  his  subject,  and  therefore  he  is 
rich ;  lie  embraces  it  as  a  whole  and  in  its  parts,  and  therefore  he  is 
consistent ;  he  has  a  firm  hold  of  it  and  therefore  he  is  luminous. 
When  his  imagination  wells  up,  it  overflows  in  ornament;  when 
his  heart  is  touched,  it  thrills  along  his  verse.  He  always  has 
the  right  word  for  the  right  idea,  and  never  a  word  too  much. 
If  he  is  brief,  it  is  because  few  words  suffice ;  when  he  is  lavish  of 
them,  still  each  word  has  its  mark,  and  aids,  not  embarrasses,  the 
vigorous  march  of  his  elocution.  He  expresses  what  all  feel,  but 
all  cannot  say;  and  his  sayings  pass  into  proverbs  among  his 
people,  and  his  phrases  become  household  words  and  idioms  of 
their  daily  speech,  which  is -tessellated  with  the  rich  fragments  of 
his  language,  as  we  see  in  foreign  lands  the  marbles  of  Roman 
grandeur  worked  into  the  walls  and  pavements  of  modern  palaces. 
Such  preeminently  is  Shakespeare  among  ourselves ;  such  pre- 
eminently Virgil  among  the  Latins;  such  in  their  degree  are  all 
those  writers  who  in  every  nation  go  by  the  name  of  classics.  To 
particular  nations  they  are  necessarily  attached  from  the  circum- 
stance of  the  variety  of  tongues,  and  the  peculiarities  of  each ;  but 
so  far  they  have  a  catholic  and  ecumenical  character  that  what 
they  express  is  common  to  the  whole  race  of  man,  and  they  alone 
are  able  to  express  it.  If  then  the  power  of  speech  is  a  gift  as 
great  as  any  that  can  be  named ;  if  the  origin  of  language  is  by 
many  philosophers  even  considered  to  be  nothing  short  of  divine ; 
if  by  means  of  words  the  secrets  of  the  heart  are  brought  to  light, 
pain  of  soul  is  relieved,  hidden  grief  is  carried  off,  sympathy  con- 
veyed, counsel  imparted,  experience  recorded,  and  wisdom  per- 
petuated ;  if  by  great  authors  the  many  are  drawn  up  into  unity, 
national  character  is  fixed,  a  people  speaks,  the  past  and  the  fu- 
ture, the  East  and  the  West,  are  brought  into  communication  with 
each  other ;  if  such  men  are,  in  a  word,  the  spokesmen  and 
prophets  of  the  human  family,  then  it  will  not  answer  to  make 


CRITICISM  BY  CARDINAL  NEWMAN  107 

light  of  literature  or  to  neglect  its  study ;  rather  we  may  be  sure 
that,  in  proportion  as  we  master  it  in  whatever  language,  and  im- 
bibe its  spirit,  we  shall  ourselves  become  in  our  own  measure  the 
ministers  of  like  benefits  to  others,  be  they  many  or  few,  be  they 
in  the  obscurer  or  the  more  distinguished  walks  of  life,  who  are 
united  to  us  by  social  ties  and  are  within  the  sphere  of  our  per- 
sonal influence." 


PART  II. 

CHAPTER  XIV 

ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 
THE    LETTER 

Divisions  of  Literary  Art. —  Literary  art  occupies  two  dis- 
tinct fields  —  the  field  of  verse  and  the  field  of  prose.  In  the 
field  of  verse  there  are  three  principal  subdivisions  —  the 
drama,  the  epic,  the  lyric.  In  the  field  of  prose  there  are  more 
subdivisions,  six  of  which  deserve  attention:  the  letter,  the 
essay,  the  sermon  or  oration,  history,  biography,  fiction.  These 
are  called  prose-forms;  taken  together  they  divide  and  cover 
the  prose  department  of  literary  art. 

The  Letter. —  The  first  standard  prose- form  is  called  the 
letter.  A  letter  is  defined  as  a  written  message  or  communica- 
tion from  one  person  to  another.  Hence,  the  use  of  the  word 
"  correspondence  "  to  indicate  this  branch  of  composition.  Be- 
sides this  specific  meaning,  a  general  meaning  attaches  to  the 
word.  When  the  plural  form  of  the  word  is  used  it  is  a  syn- 
onym for  all  literature,  and  embraces  in  its  meaning  all  the 
departments  of  literary  art.  Hence,  our  expression,  "  The  Re- 
public of  Letters/'  signifying  the  whole  field  of  literature. 
Examples  of  such  usage :  First,  Dean  Swift :  "  Pericles  was 
an  able  minister,  an  excellent  orator  and  a  man  of  letters." 
Second,  Matthew  Arnold :  "  The  valuable  thing  in  letters  is 
the  judgment  which  forms  itself  insensibly  along  with  fresh 

108 


THE  LETTER  IO9 

knowledge."  Third,  James  Russell  Lowell :  "  Pupils  should 
be  given  a  tincture  of  letters  as  distinguished  from  mere 
scholarship." 

Importance. —  The  letter,  as  a  standard  prose- form,  is  one 
of  the  most  important  branches  of  composition,  as  it  enters 
so  largely  into  the  daily  business  of  life.  In  our  age  almost 
everyone  is  under  the  necessity  of  conveying  his  opinions  or 
his  feelings  through  the  medium  of  the  letter. 

Rank  Among  Prose-Forms. —  From  a  literary  point  of  view 
the  letter  ranks  next  to  the  essay;  it  is  lowest  in  the  scale  of 
prose-forms,  because  it  approaches  the  nearest  to  ordinary  con- 
versation, has  the  least  trace  of  art  in  its  construction  and  per- 
mits the  largest  freedom.  It  occupies  a  middle  place  between 
the  serious  and  amusing  species  of  composition.  It  discloses 
more  of  the  individual  character  and  personality  of  the  writer 
than  any  other  prose-form ;  hence,  the  expression,  "  the  life  and 
letters  "  in  books  of  biography.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  can- 
not draw  near  to  the  personality  of  a  great  writer  without  read- 
ing his  letters ;  and  no  department  of  literary  art  affords  more 
pleasure  than  such  reading.  An  attractive  feature  of  current 
magazines  is  the  publication  of  letters.  For  example,  the  letters 
of  literary  men  published  in  the  Century,  Scribner's,  and  Har- 
per's magazine. 

Historical  Value. —  The  letter  is  a  vehicle  not  only  for  the 
feelings,  opinions  and  reflections  of  the  writer ;  it  often  affords 
a  picture  of  the  times  in  which  it  was  written,  and  hence  con- 
tains valuable  material  for  literary  and  political  history.  For 
example,  the  best  history  of  our  late  Civil  War,  written  by  the 
secretaries  of  President  Lincoln,  contains  several  hundred 
letters,  from  generals  and  soldiers  who  were  in  the  struggle. 
Janssen's  "  History  of  the  German  People  "  publishes  letters 


IIO  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

of  Luther  and  correspondence  of  the  German  princes.  Hence, 
letters  explain  and  illuminate  incidentally  much  of  the  national, 
religious,  domestic  and  social  conditions  and  the  course  of  pub- 
lic events.  Other  examples :  the  War  of  the  Roses  in  England, 
explained  by  the  correspondence  of  the  Paston  family;  the 
Oxford  Movement,  illuminated  by  the  letters  of  Pusey,  Ward, 
Froude,  Keble,  and  Newman. 

In  Relation  to  Other  Literary  Forms. —  The  letter  may  be 
called  the  literary  atom  because  it  is  found  in  so  many  other 
literary  forms.  Besides  the  department  of  history,  where  the 
letter  is  beginning  to  figure  so  prominently,  it  is  found  in  all 
kinds  of  biography.  For  example,  read  the  letters  in  Bos- 
well's  "Life  of  Johnson,"  or  Morley's  "Life  of  Gladstone." 
In  the  drama  it  helps  to  interpret  character  and  complicate  the 
plot.  For  example,  the  letters  in  "  Macbeth,"  "  Hamlet," 
"King  Lear,"  and  "Othello."  In  fiction  the  love-letter  is 
frequently  met  with.  Sometimes  a  long  correspondence  is 
given,  as  in  the  case  of  Glory  Quayle  in  "  The  Christian." 
In  journalism  letters  appear  from  the  regular  and  casual 
correspondent.  Perhaps  the  best  known  collection  of  letters  is 
found  in  the  New  Testament.  Thus,  the  letter  justifies  its 
claim  to  be  regarded  as  the  literary  atom. 

Various  Kinds  of  Letter.— There  are  five  kinds  of  letter 
which  occupy  a  place  in  literature:  the  letter  of  friendship, 
the  news-letter,  the  official  letter,  the  open  letter,  the  love-letter. 
These  letters  form  a  part  of  literature  because  they  are  filled 
with  sentiment,  emotion,  feeling,  wit,  humor  and  other  quali- 
ties that  humanize  them.  The  business  letter  is  excluded  from 
this  category,  for,  although  some  art  is  required  in  its  construc- 
tion, yet  it  has  no  claim  to  be  regarded  as  literature :  it  appeals 
to  the  commercial  rather  than  to  the  aesthetic  sense.  It  care- 
fully excludes  sentiment,  emotion  or  anything  that  might  sug- 


THE  LETTER  !  1 1 

gest  imagination.  If  is  in  the  main  impersonal,  cold,  Colorless. 
If  it  possesses  any  persuasive  power,  this  merit  is  not  ordinarily 
the  result  of  literary  excellence. 

The  Letter  of  Friendship. —  As  the  name  indicates,  this  let- 
ter represents  correspondence  between  friends.  Many  cele- 
brated examples  are  found  in  the  history  of  literature,  such  as 
the  letters  of  Cicero,  Newman,  Moore,  Byron,  Pope,  Goethe, 
Carlyle,  Browning.  The  literary  value  of  such  correspondence 
is  enhanced  in  three  ways:  by  the  importance  of  the  subject 
treated ;  by  wit,  humor,  feeling  and  other  humanizing  qualities ; 
by  the  rank  and  merit  of  those  who  write  such  letters.  Hence, 
the  curiosity  which  the  public  has  ever  shown  concerning  the 
letters  of  eminent  men;  the  public  expects  some  revelation  of 
character,  and  as  a  rule  is  not  disappointed.  As  letters  from 
one  friend  to  another  make  the  nearest  approach  to  conversa- 
tion, there  is  more  character  displayed  in  them  than  in  other 
productions  prepared  for  public  view.  The  writer  is  informal, 
at  ease;  and  heart  and  fancy  wield  the  pen.  Hence,  the  first 
requisite  for  such  letters  is  to  be  natural  and  simple.  A  stiff, 
formal  manner  is  as  bad  in  a  letter  as  it  is  in  conversation  or 
in  company.  The  style  must  not  be  too  highly  polished  - 
neat  and  correct,  but  no  more.  All  nicety  about  words  betrays 
study;  care  in  the  selection  of  sentences  or  in  the  arrangement 
of  thoughts  should  not  appear.  For  the  best  letters  are  such 
as  the  authors  have  written  with  most  facility. 

Subject-Matter.— The  subject-matter  of  such  letters  is  as 
wide  in  range  as  the  scope  of  human  affection.  All  things  in 
the  heavens  above  and  in  the  earth  beneath  and  in  the  waters 
under  the  earth  have  found  their  way  into  letters  of  friendship. 
But  perhaps  the  most  frequent  topics  are  personal  welfare, 
affairs  of  the  heart,  business.  For  example,  in  the  letters  of 
Cicero,  what  concerned  him  most  was  his  political  success,  and 


j  I2  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

he  received  from  Atticus  much  sound  advice  in  reference  to 
his  public  conduct  —  what  should,  or  what  should  not,  be  done 
under  certain  circumstances.  The  character  and  calling  of  the 
correspondents  will  have  a  determining  influence  upon  the 
subject-matter  selected;  as,  for  example,  the  letters  of  Thomas 
Carlyle  and  Matthew  Arnold  are  full  of  literary  topics  —  a 
panorama  of  literary  allusions.  On  the  other  hand,  the  letters 
of  Keble  and  Newman  breathe  the  spirit  of  religion.  The  en- 
vironment of  the  correspondents  often  furnishes  the  chief  top- 
ics; as,  for  example,  in  the  letters  of  Walpole  and  Montague 
the  presence  of  local  color  is  everywhere  discoverable. 

Utility  of  these  Letters. —  The  historical  value  of  letters 
has  been  noted ;  the  value  of  letters  of  friendship  to  the  depart- 
ment of  biography  cannot  be  over-estimated.  For,  as  New- 
man writes,  "  It  has  ever  been  a  truism  with  me  that  the  real 
life  of  a  man  is  in  his  letters;  not  only  for  biography,  but 
for  arriving  at  the  inside  of  things,  the  publication  of  letters 
is  the  true  method/'  "  The  friendly  letter  availeth  much  for 
the  understanding  of  men,"  as  a  wise  Elizabethan  once  wrote. 

Amount  of  Such  Literature. —  Nearly  all  literary  men  of  any 
note  have  kept  letters  of  friendship ;  some  prominent  men  like 
Walpole  have  left  several  volumes.  A  rather  strange  exception 
to  this  rule  is  William  Shakespeare  —  no  authenticated  letter 
from  him  has  ever  been  found.  Next  to  literary  men,  states- 
men and  clergymen  of  high  rank  or  prominence  in  the  church 
have  contributed  to  this  department ;  also  scientists,  like  Hux- 
ley ;  lawyers,  physicians,  teachers.  In  all,  twenty-five  thousand 
volumes  would  not  be  an  unfair  estimate. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  LETTER  (CONTINUED) 

THE    NEWS-LETTER 

Definition.— The  title  indicates  the  purpose  of  this  letter 
which,  since  the  rise  of  journalism,  has  become  a  household 
word  in  every  land.  Like  the  letter  of  friendship,  it  con- 
tributes directly  to  the  great  body  of  literature;  for,  frequently, 
the  newspaper  correspondent  is  a  literary  artist  of  high  rank. 
In  the  early  history  of  journalism  it  was  not  uncommon  to 
give  a  journal  the  title  of  news-letter.  For  example,  the  News- 
letter once  published  in  London,  and  in  Philadelphia.  At  that 
time  news  was  supplied  by  correspondents  who  would  canvass 
a  locality  and  present  their  material  in  the  form  of  a  letter. 
So  that  the  newspaper  then  was  little  more  than  a  collection 
of  letters. 

Style  of  the  News-Letter. —  As  a  rule  it  has  the  same  easy 
style,  the  same  freedom  of  treatment  as  the  letter  of  friendship. 
In  the  matter  of  gathering  news,  no  fixed  method  can  be  ap- 
plied, nor  can  any  fixed  style  be  predicated  of  such  correspond- 
ence. Much  depends  upon  the  temperament  and  gifts  of  the 
writer;  much  upon  the  character  of  the  journal  for  which  the 
news-letter  is  written.  For  example,  the  news-letters  appearing 
in  our  best  journals  and  periodicals  exhibit  the  graces  of  style 
and  the  methodical  treatment  which  one  finds  in  the  essay. 
They  are  intended  for  the  public  eye  —  a  critical  public - 
and  hence  the  writer  pays  as  much  attention  to  literary  form 

113 


T  I4  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

as  to  subject-matter.  For  example,  compare  the  style  of  a 
news-letter  appearing  in  Harper's  or  the  Century  magazine 
with  the  news-letter  style  in  the  ordinary  journal.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  news-letters  appearing  in  our  art-journals  and  maga- 
zines are  as  finished  in  form  and  as  literary  in  character  as 
any  other  department  of  prose. 

Subject-Matter.— With  regard  to  subject-matter,  the  news- 
letter enjoys  the  largest  range.  War,  politics,  religion,  science, 
art,  fashion,  are  treated  with  the  fullest  freedom  —  a  freedom 
which  justifies  Matthew  Arnold  in  the  remark  that  the  news- 
letter is  a  miniature  of  all  passing  ervents.  A  large  number  of 
news-letters  are  as  ephemeral  as  the  subjects  treated.  The 
most  permanent  news-letter  deals  with  foreign  travel,  with 
eminent  personages,  with,  the  latest  and  best  books  or  publica- 
tions. From  these  three  sources,  history,  biography,  and  lit- 
erary criticism  receive  valuable  and  permanent  additions.  The 
first  source :  foreign  travel  was  never  so  large  as  at  present ; 
never  before  was  there  such  a  study  of  the  institutions,  customs 
and  manners  of  strange  peoples ;  hence,  the  large  and  growing 
volume  of  news-letters.  Again,  there  is  a  watchful  jealousy 
among  all  civilized  nations,  and  accordingly  an  eager  demand 
for  news  from  the  special  correspondent;  for  example,  the 
news-letters  of  Mr.  Russel,  in  the  London  Times;  Richard 
Harding  Davis,  in  Harper's  Weekly.  Among  foreign  trav- 
elers there  are  bands  of  scholars  representing  the  large  uni- 
versities and  working  in  the  interests  of  various  sciences,  such 
as  geology,  archaeology ;  their  letters  and  correspondence  found 
in  university  journals  are  a  valuable  addition  to  literature :  for 
example,  correspondence  of  Russell  Harris  in  the  Cambridge 
University  Record.  Finally,  the  news-letter  from  missionaries 
in  foreign  lands  is  of  permanent  value  to  the  church  historian. 
Both  Catholic  and  Protestant  journals  give  prominence  to  these 
letters.  Besides  these  letters  there  is  the  news-letter  occupy- 


THE  LETTER  115 

ing  a  permanent  place  in  literature,  supplying-  material  not 
only  for  history,  but  for  biography  as  well.  Such  letters  de- 
scribe eminent  men  in  the  various  walks  of  life.  The  perma- 
nence of  these  letters  depends  upon  the  subjects  treated  rather 
than  upon  any  graces  of  literary  form.  The  abiding  greatness 
of  the  human  hero  often  immortalizes  such  literary  work  when 
the  art  of  the  workman  has  no  other  claim  to  immortality. 
For  example,  in  the  late  Napoleon  revival,  news-letters,  worth- 
less as  examples  of  literary  art,  were  dug  up  and  published  as 
biography.  They  will  survive  because  of  the  subject  treated. 
A  whole  library  of  this  character  has  grown  up  around  such 
men  as  Bismarck,  Leo  XIII,  Gladstone,  Newman ;  and  it  will 
survive  because  of  the  permanent  interest  the  world  will  take  in 
these  men. 

In  Relation  to  Literary  Criticism.— .  A  large  body  of  literary 
criticism  comes  from  news-letters;  they  announce  the  latest 
books  and  publications,  analyzing  and  passing  judgment  upon 
tire  contents.  Literary  criticism  in  England  and  in  America 
flows  through  the  news-letter  as  a  favorite  channel ;  and  on 
both  sides  of  the  water  the  best  journals  and  magazines  regu- 
larly devote  some  space  to  this  correspondence.  The  finest 
literary  talent  is  employed.  For  example,  Lang,  Zangwill,  in 
England ;  Curtis,  Howells,  in  America.  Besides  their  perma- 
nent value  as  criticism,  these  letters  are  an  invaluable  guide  to 
the  reading  public.  As  Frederick  Harrison  observes  :  "  Ow- 
ing to  the  enormous  activity  of  the  modern  press  and  the  mod- 
ern pen,  good  books  are  buried  in  voluminous  seas  —  ran 
nantes  in  gurgite  vasto;  and  the  critic  who  discovers-  those 
books  worth  reading  conveys  an  inestimable  favor  upon  the 
public." 

The  Official  Letter.—  The  official  letter,  as  the  title  implies, 
is  the  document  and  product  of  authority.     In  the  administra- 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

tion  of  government  this  prose-form  has  always  been  employed. 
Hence,  the  archives  of  church  and  state  possess  a  large  mass 
of  literature  from  this  source.  In  every  capital  city  of  the 
world  the  archives  are  filled  with  official  correspondence.  Ow- 
ing to  the  increasingly  complex  relations  which  governments 
now  sustain  toward  their  subjects  and  toward  each  other,  the 
volume  of  official  correspondence  is  constantly  growing. 

The  Literary  Value  of  these  Letters.— As  a  rule,  the  official  let- 
ter, like  the  business  letter,  makes  no  direct  contribution  to 
literature  in  the  strict  sense  of  that  word.  For  ordinarily  it 
is  a  plain  formal  statement  of  duty  or  command,  giving  no 
room  to  fancy  or  emotion.  •  But  indirectly,  all  official  corre- 
spondence possesses  some  literary  value,  because  it  furnishes 
material  for  history.  All  historians  rely  upon  official  archives. 
The  latest  examples :  Janssen  working  in  the  Berlin  archives ; 
Ludwig  Pastor  in  the  archives  of  the  Vatican ;  Bancroft  and 
Freeman  in  the  archives  of  Washington  and  London.  The 
historical  novel,  treating  past  events  with  fanciful  freedom, 
likewise  employs  official  correspondence  as  the  basis  of  im- 
aginary plots.  Imaginary  letters  are  introduced  as  written 
by  prominent  officials  of  church  and  state.  For  example, 
Walter  Scott's  treatment  of  medieval  history. 

Species  of  this  Letter. —  Two  kinds  of  official  correspondence 
form  an  exception  to  the  general  laws :  encyclical  letters  and 
those  that  come  under  the  head  of  diplomatic  correspondence. 
These  letters,  when  written  by  gifted  men,  are  among  the  finest 
expressions  of  literary  art.  For  example :  the  letters  of  Cicero 
when  "Roman  consul;  the  diplomatic  correspondence  of  Talley- 
rand; the  encyclical  letters  of  Leo  XIII.  Read  the  letter  of 
Daniel  Webster  on  the  impressment  of  American  seamen, 
written  to  Lord  Ashburton  when  Webster  was  Secretary  of 
State.  The  official  letter,  says  Arnold,  when  it  takes  the  form 
of  diplomatic  correspondence,  gives  free  rein  to  certain  human- 


THE  LETTER  H7 

izing  qualities  that  characterize  the  best  literature.  Emotion, 
persuasiveness,  beauty  of  form  and  of  thought,  are  very  often, 
though  not  always,  the  characteristics  of  such  writing.  Cer- 
tain it  is,  however,  that  in  spite  of  official  chilliness  and  self- 
suppression  there  is  a  large  play  of  personality.  Moreover, 
the  arts  of  diplomacy  require  at  times  all  the  subtlety  and 
wealth  of  language,  justifying  Talleyrand's  dictum  that  lan- 
guage was  made  to  conceal  thought.  John  Morley,  writing 
about  the  biography  of  Talleyrand,  makes  this  observation : 
"  I  find  in  his  diplomatic  correspondence  a  complete  revelation 
of  the  man  who  exhausted  all  the  arts  of  the  primitive  serpent 
in  dealing  with  contemporary  rulers."  The  encyclical  letter, 
like  diplomatic  correspondence,  is  often  a  revelation  of  per- 
sonality. If  the  author  happens  to  be  a  literary  artist,  as  in 
the  case  of  Sixtus  IV.,  Leo  X.,  or  Leo  XIII.,  the  encyclical 
letter  will  exhibit  all  the  charm  and  merit  of  the  best  literature. 
Richard  Clarke,  speaking  about  the  letters  of  Leo  XIII.,  ob- 
serves that  they  rank  among  the  best-  specimens  of  epistolary 
correspondence.  A  refinement  of  taste,  a  deep  and  varied 
scholarship,  and  above  all,  the  impress  of  an  extraordinary 
personality  give  to  these  letters  a  permanent  place  in  literature. 

Style. —  The  official  letter  in  form  and  in  style :  In  form 
it  is  suggestive  of  the  essay,  giving  no  place  to  rambling 
thought  or  looseness  of  expression ;  it  is  characterized  by  pre- 
cision of  statement,  method  and  regularity.  In  style  it  aims 
at  preserving  official  dignity ;  all  the  formalities  of  social,  polit- 
ical and  religious  life  are  strictly  observed. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  LETTER  (CONTINUED) 

The  Open  Letter. —  The  open  letter  may  be  called  the  liter- 
ary paradox,  for  the  term,  letter,  connotes  privacy,  whereas 
the  open  letter  courts  publicity.  Although  addressed  to  some 
prominent  member  of  society,  nevertheless,  it  is  intended  for 
the  public.  It  is  more  carefully  written  than  the  letter  of 
friendship,  because  it  is  meant  for  publication.  In  style  and 
finish  it  approaches  the  essay  or  treatise  —  in  fact  it  may  be 
called  an  essay  plus  the  formalities  of  epistolary  correspon- 
dence. 

Occasion  for  this  Letter. —  The  occasion  is  usually  a  grave 
one  —  some  great  political  or  religious  upheaval.  For  ex- 
ample, the  late  Armenian  massacres  which  were  the  occasion 
of  an  open  letter  addressed  by  Mr.  Gladstone  to  the  Duke  of 
Westminster.  The  war  between  Spain  and  America  occa- 
sioned the  writing  of  an  open  letter  by  Minister  De  Lome  to 
the  American  people.  The  first  open  letter  written  by  an 
Englishman  was  that  of  St.  Gildas  to  the  ancient  Britons, 
pleading  for  certain  church  reforms.  Since  that  time  the  open 
letter  has  often  appeared  as  an  index  of  vicissitudes  in  political 
and  religious  life.  The  most  elaborate  open  letter  in  English 
literature  is  that  of  Cardinal  Newman  to  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk, wherein  the  author  attempts  to  allay  public  feeling  in  the 
matter  of  Vaticanism. 

Publicity  of  Such  Letters. —  They  attain  a  wide  publicity,  ow- 
ing to  the  excitement  which  prevails  at  the  time  they  are 

118 


THE  LETTER  l  JQ 

written.  As  soon  as  the  open  letter  is  received,  it  is  given 
to  the  public  press  by  the  person  to  whom  it  is  addressed  - 
this  with  the  full  consent  and  understanding  of  the  author. 
Sometimes  the  open  letter  is  made  a  feature  of  the  weekly 
periodical  or  the  magazine.  For  example,  the  letters  that 
appear  in  the  New  York  Sun  or  the  Century  Magazine  —  let- 
ters addressed  to  the  editor,  but  intended  for  the  public. 

Style.—  The  style  of  the  open  letter  is  dignified  and  formal, 
calm,  dispassionate.  It  is  written,  as  a  rule,  by  some  prom- 
inent citizen  —  an  official  of  the  church,  it  may  be,  or  of  the 
state ;  and  it  treats  of  subjects  which  appeal  to  the  whole  com- 
munity. As  it  is  intended  to  be  a  calm,  critical  survey  of  some 
warmly  debated  problem,  the  open  letter  appeals  to  the  under- 
standing, rather  than  to  the  imagination.  The  personality  of 
the  writer,  which  shines  through  the  ordinary  letter,  is  kept 
out  of  this  work.  It  is  occupied  with  argument,  exposition,  a 
plain  statement  of  facts. 

The  Love-Letter.—  The  love-letter,  as  the  name  implies,  is 
a  branch  of  erotic  literature.  It  deals  with  the  tender  passion 
which  has  inspired  so  much  that  is  pure  and  vile  in  the  world's 
classics.  Like  the  letter  of  friendship,  the  love-letter  possesses 
the  charm  of  incommunicable  individualistic  traits;  for  here, 
if  anywhere,  personality  appears  and  appeals.  This  letter  is 
sometimes  defined  as  a  lyric  in  prose.  Heart  and  fancy  wield 
the  pen. 

Universality  of  Appeal — "All  the  world  loves  a  lover";  and. 
as  a  consequence,  the  whole  world  reads  the  love-letter.  No 
man  or  woman  is  so  poorly  educated  as  to  feel  incompetent  to 
write  a  love-letter.  Hence,  if  all  the  love-letters  written  could 
be  collected,  the  world  would  not  contain  the  books.  In  every 
home,  under  lock  and  key,  there  is  a  small  packet  of  them, 


I20  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

too  sacred  for  the  public  eye,  yet  withal,  the  purest  kind  of 
literature. 

Style.—  The  style  of  the  love-letter  is  highly  emotional,  vary- 
ing with  every  mood  and  fancy,  extravagant  to  a  degree 
almost  incredible,  but  well  understood  by  those  who  have  ex- 
perienced the  spell  of  this  tender  passion.  The  style  may  be 
compared  to  a  tropic  flower  garden,  it  is  so  luxuriant,  so  brim- 
ful of  beauty;  metaphor,  simile,  all  kinds  of  figure  and  all 
kinds  of  illustration,  abound.  Perhaps  the  best  examples  of 
its  luxuriance  are  found  in  the  Epithalamium  of  Spenser  and 
the  sonnets  of  Petrarch  and  Shakespeare.  Like  the  letter  of 
friendship,  it  is  free,  easy,  familiar  —  no  method  but  "  the 
heart's  way." 

Literary  Use. —  The  love-letter  is  prominent  in  works  of  fic- 
tion. Sometimes  it  is  introduced  to  elaborate  the  plot,  fre- 
quently adding  thereto  the  element  of  complexity;  sometimes 
it  serves  as  a  summary  of  the  action  —  a  delightful  bit  of  retro- 
spect or  a  breathing  space  like  the  lyric  pause  in  dramatic 
action.  Such  modern  writers  as  Hall  Caine,  Henry  James, 
William  Dean  Howells,  Marion  Crawford,  and  others  employ 
the  letter  quite  extensively.  For  example,  the  letters  of  Glory 
Quayle  in  "  The  Christian";  although  hers  are  not  all  love- 
letters. 

Publication  of  these  Letters.— The  modern  tendency  to  un- 
lock all  secrets  and  reveal  all  affairs  of  personal  and  private 
character  has  seriously  interfered  with  the  privacy  of  the  love- 
letter.  It  is  often  published  now  in  order  to  satisfy  the  some- 
what morbid  craving  of  the  modern  public.  Several  volumes, 
like  the  "  Love-Letters  of  an  Englishwoman,"  have  been  enjoy- 
ing an  extensive  circulation.  It  is  only  another  example  of 
the  popularity  of  erotic  literature.  There  may  be  a  difference 
of  opinion  as  to  the  propriety  of  publishing  such  letters,  but 
there  is  no  question  as  to  their  literary  value. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  LETTER  (CONTINUED) 

History  of  the  Letter. —  The  letter  is  one  of  the  oldest  prose- 
forms  in  literature.  It  constitutes  a  part,  sometimes  a  very 
considerable  part,  of  the  literary  life  of  historic  peoples.  From 
time  immemorial  kings  and  princes  sent  words  of  greeting  to 
contemporary  rulers,  using  the  letter  as  their  literary  vehicle. 
For  example,  the  letter  of  Arius,  King  of  the  Spartans,  to 
Onias,  high  priest  of  Israel.  Ambassadors  and  missionaries 
through  it  made  known  their  messages  to  the  nations  of  the 
earth.  The  use  of  the  letter  gradually  crept  into  commercial 
life,  and  after  a  time  the  lower  as  well  as  the  higher  ranks  of 
society  began  to  employ  it. 

The  Letter  in  Hebrew  Literature. —  The  epistolary  litera- 
ture of  the  Bible  constitutes  a  department  of  the  highest  im- 
portance. According  to  Dr.  Moulton,  three  classes  of  compo- 
sition come  under  the  head  of  letter  or  epistle.  The  first  and 
largest  class  is  made  up  of  letters  in  the  strictest  sense,  the 
Epistles  of  Pastoral  Intercourse.  These  have  the  full  form 
of  epistolary  correspondence,  commencing  with  a  salutation 
from  the  Apostle,  with  whom  other  names  are  joined  in  some 
cases,  to  a  distinct  church  or  fellow  worker,  and  ending  with 
further  salutations  and  sometimes  an  autograph  message,  and 
with  greetings  general  or  by  name.  All  pastoral  affairs  are 
discussed  with  freedom.  For  example,  the  first  letter  to  the 
Corinthians,  where  St.  Paul  talks  about  church  factions,  moral 
laxity,  and  other  matters  which  come  under  pastoral  super- 

121 


I22  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

vision.  A  second  class  Moulton  calls  the  Epistolary  Treatise, 
wherein  the  customary  form  of  the  letter  is  preserved  while 
the  author  enters  upon  a  long  dissertation  concerning  religious 
doctrine.  For  example,  in  the  letter  to  the  Romans,  the  doc- 
trine of  Faith.  A  third  class  is  called  the  Epistolary  Manifes- 
to; it  is  a  circular  letter  addressed  to  the  various  churches.  For 
example,  the  general  epistle  of  Saint  Peter.  Concluding  his 
analysis,  Moulton  remarks:  "  The  epistles  occupy  in  the  New 
Testament  the  place  occupied  by  prophecy  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. The  prophets  could  move  amongst  their  fellow  coun- 
trymen and  bring  to  bear  upon  them  the  power  of  vocal  ad- 
dress. On  the  other  hand,  the  apostles  addressed  those  who 
were  scattered  through  distant  cities,  and  could  communicate 
with  the  church  as  a  whole  only  by  letter.  The  analogous 
Old  Testament  form  —  the  gnomic  epistle  —  is  to  be  found  in 
wisdom  literature.  Like  the  Old  Testament  essay,  it  is  crude, 
poorly  organized,  yet  sufficiently  definite  to  be  traceable.  For 
example,  the  third  Book  of  Wisdom  is  a  gnomic  epistle;  its 
introduction  makes  clear  that  it  is  delivered  in  writing,  and 
on  the  application  of  a  delegate  who  represents  others  besides 
himself;  the  suggestion  is  of  the  intercourse  that  prevailed 
between  wise  men  at  a  distance,  such  as  Solomon  and  Hiram 
of  Tyre." 

Saint  Paul  the  Representative  Hebrew  Author  of  Letters. — 

Of  the  large  number  of  letter  writers,  Saint  Paul  ought  to  be 
given  first  place,  for  among  men  of  world-wide  reputation  there 
is  no  author  quite  so  prominent  as  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles. 
Next  to  the  Divine  Founder  of  Christianity,  there  is  no  person- 
ality so  great  in  the  New  Testament,  and  a  charming  revela- 
tion of  this  personality  is  given  in  the  letters.  These  letters 
are  translated  into  every  known  language;  they  are  read  in 
the  churches  of  all  Christian  denominations ;  they  are  univers- 
ally admired  on  account  of  the  nobility  of  character  which  they 


THE  LETTER  12$ 

reveal.  These  letters  are  valuable  in  the  highest  degree  as  an 
exposition  of  Christian  doctrine ;  but  aside  from  their  theolog- 
ical value,  they  possess  a  permanent  literary  value.  They  are 
filled  with  emotion,  beauty,  sublimity,  pathos  —  those  qualities 
that  humanize  writing  and  make  it  literature.  They  are  four- 
teen in  number,  and  together  form  about  one- fourth  of  the 
New  Testament. 

How  Classified.— The  letters  of  St.  Paul  are  classed  as  open 
letters  because,  although  directed  to  separate  churches  and 
communities,  they  were  providentially  intended  to  teach  the 
Church  universal.  With  the  exception  of  the  letter  to  Phil- 
emon they  are  open  letters  from  one  of  the  highest  officials 
of  the  Church  —  written  for  the  edification  and  instruction 
of  all  the  faithful.  The  letter  to  Philemon  is  private  in  char- 
acter and  must  be  classified  among  letters  of  friendship. 

Special  Literary  Merit. —  The  letters  of  Saint  Paul  reveal  the 
chief  personality  of  primitive  Christian  times,  excepting,  of 
course,  the  Divine  Founder  of  Christianity.  And  the  first 
claim  to  consideration,  from  a  literary  point  of  view,  rests  upon 
this  fact  —  the  revelation  of  Saint  Paul's  character  and  per- 
sonality —  his  passion  for  righteousness,  his  burning  zeal  and 
enthusiasm  —  his  intense  love  of  humanity  —  his  courage, 
charity,  learning,  eloquence  —  all  those  traits  that  glorify 
human  nature  and  exalt  human  character  are  revealed  in  his 
letters.  The  letters  of  Saint  Paul  are  not  only  a  revelation  of 
his  own  personality;  they  reveal  the  normal  working  of  the 
oriental  imagination ;  they  reveal  its  normal  development,  as 
the  later  writings  of  Saint  John  and  the  Book  of  Job  reveal 
its  abnormal  flights.  The  oriental  imagination  is  the  chief 
glory  of  Hebrew  literature.  In  Saint  Paul  it  finds  expression 
in  all  kinds  of  metaphor,  simile,  personification.  The  letters 
are  full  of  such  figures  as  "  The  Word  of  God  is  a  two-edged 
sword ;  "  "  The  wages  of  sin  is  death ;  "  "  A  door  was  opened 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

unto  me  in  the  Lord ;  "  "  We  are  temples  of  the  Holy  Spirit." 
All  his  imaginative  work  is  normal,  practical,  severely  simple; 
like  the  parables  of  our  Lord,  in  no  way  suggestive  of  the 
grandeur  or  weirdness  of  the  Apocalypse.  Yet  this  imagina- 
tive work  is  distinctly  oriental.  It  is  nature  and  life  as  both 
appear  beneath  the  Syrian  skies.  A  third  characteristic  of  his 
letters  is  the  frequent  literary  allusion.  Like  all  great  writers, 
Saint  Paul  made  many  literary  allusions.  They  are  drawn 
chiefly  from  early  Hebrew  books ;  only  three  or  four  references 
are  made  to  profane  writers.  Quotations  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment are  found  in  profusion  throughout  his  letters ;  for  exam- 
ple, about  one-fifth  of  the  letter  to  the  Hebrews  is  in  the  form 
of  quotation.  Saint  Paul's  range  of  reading  beyond  Hebrew 
literature  was  evidently  narrow ;  although  complete  as  regards 
his  own  people.  When  Saint  Paul  addressed  letters  to  the 
Greeks  and  the  Romans  an  opportunity  was  afforded  to  him 
to  display  a  knowledge  of  classic  literature.  Only  one  or  two 
classic  quotations  occur;  among  them  one  from  Aratus  of 
Cilicia,  a  Greek  lyric  poet.  But  Saint  Paul  did  not 
have  classic  lore  for  an  object  —  he  sought  rather  the  souls  of 
men,  and  knew  little  else  save  the  things  of  heaven.  A  fifth 
characteristic  of  the  letters  of  Saint  Paul  is  their  wealth  of 
feeling  and  emotion — a  characteristic  of  the  best  literature. 
The  fulness  of  a  passionate  and  zealous  heart  finds  expression 
in  his  literary  work  as  it  found  expression  in  missionary  labors. 
His  boundless  enthusiasm  for  religion  and  his  intense,  pas- 
sionate, love  of  humanity  fill  his  letters  with  emotion ;  making 
him  the  idolized  apostle  of  the  Protestant  and  the  Roman  Cath- 
olic world.  In  comparison  with  him  the  other  apostles  are 
frozen  spirits,  attractive  in  the  order  of  grace,  but  without  those 
splendid  passions  and  affections  which  immortalize  the  life  and 
letters  of  Saint  Paul.  The  only  apostle  who  approaches  him 
in  largeness  of  heart  and  mind  is  Saint  John.  As  a  conse- 
quence of  this  emotion,  Saint  Paul  in  his  letters  adheres  closely 


THE  LETTER 

to  the  oriental  style  of  writing,  the  distinguishing  features  of 
which  are  first  the  frequent  use  of  exclamations.  His  letters 
abound  in  exclamations.  For  example,  "  O  the  depth  of  tht 
riches,  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God  !  "  "  O  man, 
who  art  thou  that  repliest  against  God  !  "  Secondly,  the  frequent 
use  of  the  question  mark.  For  example,  in  the  letter  to  the 
Romans  over  two  hundred  sentences  are  found  in  the  form 
of  questions.  Thirdly,  the  frequent  use  of  exhortation  and 
the  employment  of  the  imperative  rather  than  the  subjunctive 
mood  for  that  purpose.  Very  frequently  the  argument  is  in- 
terrupted by  exhortations,  as  if  heart  and  brain  were  in  con- 
stant rivalry — emotion  continually  arresting  the  processes  of 
thought.  All  these  features  render  his  style  vivid  and  im- 
pressive. Judged  by  our  severe  northern  standards  of  criti- 
cism, this  style  is  ill-suited  to  letters  and  much  better  adapted 
to  purposes  of  oratory.  Saint  Paul  is  accused  of  emphasizing 
to  excess  these  features  of  the  oriental  style,  but  the  critic  must 
take  into  account  the  character  of  the  writer,  and  the  peculiar 
temperament  of  southern  nations.  It  is  a  strange  fact  that 
his  style  was  not  modified  by  contact  with  the  Romans,  and 
especially  with  the  Greeks.  The  supreme  test  of  a  great  genius 
is  to  break  the  shackles  of  early  environment.  Saint  Paul  bore 
the  test  in  his  religious  work,  earning  the  title  of  Apostle  of  the 
Gentiles.  But  in  his  literary  work  he  never  rose  above  his 
early  Hebrew  environment.  In  the  matter  and  form  of  his 
writings  he  remained  to  the  very  end  a  Hebrew  of  the 
Hebrews. 

The  Letter  Among  the  Greeks  and  Latins.—  There  are  very 
few  examples  of  the  letter  in  ancient  classic  literature;  al- 
though many  writers  of  a  later  period  have  left  letters  both 
in  Latin  and  in  Greek.  No  authentic  letter  written  by  Plato 
or  Aristotle  or  the  great  dramatists  or  historians  of  Greece 
has  come  down  to  us.  And,  if  we  except  Cicero  and  Pliny, 


I26  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

the  same  statement  applies  to  classic  Roman  authors.  There 
are  allusions  in  Thucydides,  Herodotus,  Plutarch,  Livy  and 
other  classic  historians,  going  to  show  that  the  letter  was  a 
familiar  prose-form  both  in  Greece  and  in  Rome.  But  very 
little  care  seems  to  have  been  exercised  in  preserving  such 
literary  remains  until  we  come  to  the  Christian  era.  In  the 
case  of  Greece,  the  absence  of  the  letter  may  be  explained  by 
the  destruction  of  the  national  archives  —  the  inevitable  result 
of  conquest  after  conquest.  In  Christian  times,  besides  the 
letters  of  Basil,  Chrysostom,  Ignatius  and  other  Greek  fathers, 
we  have  the  collection  of  Alciphron,  who  lived  in  the  latter 
half  of  the  second  century,  A.  D.  He  collected  three  books 
of  letters,  one  hundred  in  all ;  they  are  written  in  the  best  Attic, 
and  describe  rather  minutely  the  social  life  of  Greece;  perhaps 
the  best  part  of  the  collection  are  those  letters  that  passed 
between  Glycera  and  Menander.  The  letters  of  Phalaris  which, 
if  genuine,  would  be  the  oldest  in  Greek  literature,  are  proven 
to  be  spurious  by  Bentley,  the  English  critic.  However,  they 
are  written  in  excellent  Greek,  and  belong  most  probably  to 
the  second  century  of  the  Christian  era. 

Letters  of  the  Church  Fathers. —  Concerning  these  letters, 
Newman  in  his  historical  sketches  offers  the  following  criti- 
cism : 

Criticism  by  Cardinal  Newman. — "  These  ancient  Fathers 
(Greek  and  Latin)  have  left  behind  them  just  that  kind  of  litera- 
ture which  more  than  any  other  represents  the  abundance  of  the 
heart,  which  more  than  any  other  approaches  to  conversation :  I 
mean  correspondence.  Why  is  it  that  we  feel  an  interest  in 
Cicero  which  we  cannot  feel  in  Demosthenes  or  Plato?  Plato 
is  the  very  type  of  soaring  philosophy,  and  Demosthenes,  of 
forcible  eloquence;  Cicero  is  something  more  than  orator  and 
sage;  he  is  not  a  mere  ideality,  he  is  a  man  and  a  brother;  he 
is  one  of  ourselves.  We  do  not  merely  believe  it  or  infer  it, 
but  we  have  the  enduring  and  living  evidence  of  it  —  how?  In 


THE  LETTER 


1-27 


his  letters.     Now   the  case  of  the   Church   Fathers   is   parallel 
to  that  of  Cicero.     We  have  their  letters  in  a  marvelous  pro- 
fusion.    We  have  above  400  letters  of  Saint  Basil ;  above  200 
of  Saint  Augustine.     Saint  Chrysostom  has  left  us  about  240; 
Saint  Gregory,  the  same  number;  Saint  Nilus  close  on  to  1,400; 
Saint  Isidore,   1,440.     The  Blessed  Theodoret,   146;  Saint  Leo, 
140;  Saint  Cyprian,  80  or  90;  Saint  Jerome,  100;  Saint  Ambrose, 
90 ;  Saint  Bernard,  the  last  of  the  Fathers,  supplies  4/14     *     *     * 
These  letters  are  of  very  various  characters,  compared  one  with 
another;  a  large  portion  of  them  were  intended  simply  for  the 
parties  to  whom  they  are  addressed ;  a  large  portion  of  them 
consist  of  brief  answers  to  questions  asked  of  the  writer,  or  a 
few  words  of  good  counsel  or  spiritual  exhortation,  disclosing  his 
character  either  by  the  topic  selected,  or  his  mode  of  dealing  with 
it.     Many  are  doctrinal ;  great  numbers  again  are  strictly  ecclesi- 
astical.    Many  are  historical  and  biographical;  some  might  be 
called  state  papers ;  some  narrate  public  translations,  and  how  the 
writer  felt  towards  them,  or  why  he  took  part  in  them.     For 
example,  Pope  Gregory's  epistles  give  us  the  same  sort  of  insight 
into  the  holy  solicitude  for  the  universal  Christian  people  which 
possessed  him,  that  minute  vigilance,  yet  comprehensive  superin- 
tendence of  the  chief  pastor,  which  in  a  very  different  field  nf 
labor  is  seen  in  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  dispatches  on  the  cam- 
paign, which  tells  us  so  much  more  about. him  than  any  panegyri- 
cal sketch.     On  the  other  hand,  the  letters  of  Saint  Isidore  and 
Saint  Nilus  consist  of  little  more  than  one  or  two  terse,  pithy, 
pregnant  sentences,  which  may  be  called  sermonets,  and  are  often 
as  vivid  as  if  we  heard  them.     Saint  Chrysostom's  are  for  the 
most  part  crowded  into  the  three  memorable  years  in  which  the 
sufferings  of  exile  gradually  ripened  into  a  virtual  martyrdom. 
Others,  as  some  of  those  of  Saint  Jerome  and  Saint  Ambrose,  are 
meditations  on  mystical  subjects.     Those  of  Saint  Dionysius  nf 
Alexandria,  which  are  but  fragments,  recount  the  various  trials 
of  the  time,  and  are  marked  with  a  vigorous  individuality  which 
invests  the  narrative  with  an  interest  far  higher  than  historical  " 
(Newman,  Historical  Sketches). 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  LETTER  (CONTINUED) 

CICERO'S  LETTERS 

Cicero,  the  Classic  Representative  of  Ancient  Epistolary 
Writing. —  Among  ancient  classic  authors,  Cicero  holds  first 
place  as  a  writer  of  letters.  In  tracing  the  history  of  this 
prose-form,  he,  like  Saint  Paul,  deserves  special  notice.  A 
word  about  his  life :  on  the  steep  side  of  one  of  the  Volscian 
hills,  below  which  the  river  Liris,  now  the  Garigliano,  flowed  in 
a  winding  channel  to  the  sea,  not  far  distant  from  the  kingdom 
of  Naples,  lay  the  ancient  town  of  Arpinum.  In  the  neigh- 
borhood of  this  town,  where  the  Fibreno  joins  its  small  tribu- 
tary stream  to  the  waters  of  the  Liris,  amidst  rocks  and  hills 
and  the  loveliest  of  Italian  landscapes,  Cicero  was  born  on  the 
third  of  January,  B.  C.  106.  He  was  slain  in  43  B.  C. 

His  Career  in  Brief. —  He  served  in  the  Social  War  in  89; 
traveled  in  Greece  and  Asia  79-77 ;  Quaestor  in  Sicily  in  75 ; 
accused  Verres  in  70;  Edile  in  69;  Pretor  in  66;  Consul  sup- 
pressing Catiline  in  63;  Proconsul  in  Sicily,  51-50;  joined 
Pompey  49-48 ;  Philippics  against  Antony  44 ;  proscribed  and 
slain  by  the  second  Triumvirate  in  43. 

General  Estimate. —  Cicero  is  an  example  of  the  highest  type 
of  pagan  culture.  Few  men  have  been  more  praised,  and 
iew  more  vilified  than  Cicero.  Two  reasons  may  be  assigned  — • 
the  distinguished  place  he  holds  in  history  —  the  weakness  and 

128 


CICERO'S  LETTERS  129 

strength  of  character  which  he  alternately  displayed  in  public 
office  and  in  private  life.  The  chief  fault  in  Cicero's  moral 
character  was  a  want  of  sincerity.  In  a  different  sense  of  the 
word  from  that  expressed  by  Saint  Paul,  he  wished  to  become 
all  things  to  all  men.  His  private  correspondence  and  his 
public  speeches  were  often  in  direct  contradiction  with  each 
other  as  to  the  opinions  he  expressed  of  his  contemporaries; 
and  he  lavished  compliments  in  the  Senate  and  the  Forum 
upon  men  whose  conduct  he  disliked,  and  whose  characters  he 
abhorred.  One  recognizes  in  him  the  arts  and  the  vanity  of 
the  politician.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  were  many  sterling 
qualities  far  outweighing  this  weakness  —  qualities  which  will 
forever  entitle  Cicero  to  the  respect  and  homage  of  mankind. 

As  a  Writer. —  His  literary  work  is  divided  into  three 
classes :  orations,  philosophical  treatises,  letters.  His  orations 
are  fifty-six  in  number.  They  have  been  the  models  of  oratory 
in  all  countries  ever  since  his  time.  To  the  second  division 
belong  treatises  on  Philosophy,  from  which  we  derive  all  our 
knowledge  of  the  Greek  systems  which  succeeded  the  schools 
of  Plato  and  Aristotle.  The  third  division  embraces  Cicero's 
letters.  Cicero  found  the  Latin  language  barren,  crude,  dis- 
sonant ;  he  found  it  brick  and  left  it  marble.  On  his  merit  as 
a  writer,  Cardinal  Newman  observes :  "  Cicero's  art  lies  in 
converting  the  very  disadvantages  of  the  Latin  language  into 
beauties,  in  enriching  it  with  metaphors  and  circumlocutions, 
in  pruning  it  of  harsh  and  uncouth  expressions,  in  systematiz- 
ing its  structure ;  and  herein  we  find  that  copia  dicendi  which 
gained  Cicero  the  high  testimony  of  Caesar  to  his  inventive 
powers,  and  which  we  may  add,  constitutes  him  the  greatest 
master  of  composition  that  the  world  has  seen." 

His  Letters.— The  letters  of  Cicero,  next  to  his  orations, 
are  the  most  valuable  part  of  his  literary  work.  They  are 


I30  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

valuable,  first  of  all,  as  a  history  of  his  domestic  life  from 
his  fortieth  year  almost  to  the  day  of  his  death.  Like  the 
letters  of  Saint  Paul  in  this  regard,  they  reveal  a  charming 
personality  —  a  character  incapable  of  the  apostle's  zeal  or 
aggressiveness,  but  yet,  so  upright,  pure  and  noble  as  to  win 
universal  admiration  even  in  Christian  times  when  the  standard 
of  moral  excellence  is  so  high.  "  These  letters,"  writes  De 
Quincey,  "  open  a  door  to  his  domestic  life ;  to  say  nothing  of 
their  exquisite  Latinity  they  are  full  of  playful  wit ;  they  have 
a  freshness  and  reality  which  no  narrative  of  by-gone  events 
can  ever  hope  to  attain ;  they  show  that  Cicero  was  a  man  of 
genial  soul,  of  a  most  kind  and  amiable  disposition ;  they  show 
that  he  is  always  the  scholar  and  the  gentleman ;  no  one  hav- 
ing more  of  that  refined  polish  which  the  Romans  described 
by  the  expressive  word,  Urbanitas."  For,  in  the  whole  of 
his  correspondence,  not  a  single  coarse  word  or  vulgar  idea 
occurs. 

A  Revelation  of  Private  Life. —  The  letters  of  Cicero  as  a 
revelation  of  his  private  life,  emphasize  some  traits  of  his 
character,  notably  his  passionate  fondness  for  books  and  for 
friends.  Regarding  books  he  writes  to  Atticus  :  "  When  my 
librarian  brought  in  and  arranged  my  books,  it  seemed  as  if 
my  house  had  suddenly  gotten  a  soul."  Again  he  writes : 
"  I  would  sooner  sit  in  my  library  with  a  bust  of  Aristotle 
above  my  head  than  in  a  consul's  chair.  I  envy  not  Croesus 
with  all  his  wealth  and  broad  acres :  give  me  only  the  power 
to  purchase  books."  Cicero  was  a  constant  book-buyer,  gather- 
ing parchments,  rolls  and  manuscripts  from  all  parts  of  the 
empire.  The  letters  of  Cicero  reveal  his  passionate  love,  not 
only  for  books,  but  for  friends  as  well.  Hence  his  letters 
are  to  some  extent  a  history  of  many  important  personages 
of  his  time.  He  corresponded  with  a  number  of  public  men ; 


CICERO'S  LKTTHRS  I^I> 

for  example,   Antony,   Croesus,   Caesar,   Brutus.     Fully  fifty 
men  of  note  in  Roman  History  are  mentioned  in  his  letters. 

Friendship  for  Atticus.—  The  friendship  between  Cicero  and 
Atticus  occupies  the  largest  space  in  his  letters.  It  was  a 
friendship  cordial,  sincere,  begun  in  youth  and  never  varying 
during  all  the  vicissitudes  of  their  lives.  On  this  point  Niebuhr 
remarks  that  there  is  no  parallel  case  of  such  friendship  in 
early  Roman  history ;  as  the  citizen  lived  simply  for  his  coun- 
try, having  no  regard  for  private  or  social  affections.  Cicero 
possessed  these  affections,  and  cultivated  friendship  to  a 
degree  which  few  Romans  could  comprehend. 

An  Autobiography. —  The  letters  of  Cicero  have  all  the 
merits  of  autobiography.  Cicero  and  Atticus  lived  on  terms 
of  absolute  confidence;  and  their  long  unbroken  friendship 
made  it  possible  for  Cicero  to  entrust  Atticus  with  all  kinds 
of  secrets  respecting  himself  and  his  family.  Hence,  the 
letters  are  a  complete  revelation  of  his  private  and  domestic 
life;  in  them  are  told  his  most  secret  plans  and  purposes;  his 
cares  and  troubles,  whether  at  home  or  before  the  public.  As 
he  writes  to  Terentia :  "I  consult  Atticus  about  everything." 
Accordingly,  these  letters  appeal  to  our  age,  so  curious  to  know 
all  the  secrets  about  great  lives. 

The  Character  of  Cicero  as  Revealed  in  His  Letters. —  In- 
sincerity has  already  been  noted  as  revealed  in  his  political 
speeches.  Aside  from  this,  two  glaring  defects  appear  in  his 
character,  otherwise  so  pure  and  noble.  First,  a  lack  of 
self-reliance:  he  seldom  trusted  his  own  judgment;  he  feared 
too  much  the  hiss  of  the  multitude.  If  he  had  not  received 
the  counsel  and  support  of  Atticus,  his  public  life  doubtless 
would  have  been  a  failure.  The  second  defect  in  the  character 
of  Cicero  was  an  excitable,  impulsive,  disposition.  It  is  sur- 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

prising  to  note  in  his  letters  how  rapidly  he  sinks  from  exalted 
moods  to  the  depths  of  despair.  He  writes  to  Atticus :  "  I 
am  so  disheartened  and  discouraged  at  times  that,  were  it  not 
for  your  friendly  counsel,  I  should  commit  suicide."  And  in 
his  last  reverses,  when  the  Roman  Republic  fell,  Cicero  would 
certainly  have  committed  suicide  if  Atticus  had  not  exerted 
his  powerful  influence,  restraining  this  mercurial  friend. 

The  Literary  Value  of  His  Correspondence. —  The  letters 
of  Cicero  satisfy  all  critical  demands  as  a  revelation  of  char- 
acter. They  are  likewise  valuable  on  account  of  their  literary 
form  and  content.  The  style  is  that  easy,  flowing,  familiar 
one,  characteristic  of  letters  of  friendship.  His  style  is  a  model 
for  all  writings  of  that  class.  It  is  the  style  of  Saint  Paul, 
minus  the  oriental  features;  for  in  it  there  are  few  question 
marks  or  exclamations,  and  very  little  imagery.  In  this  lit- 
erary work,  Cicero  impresses  the  reader  not  only  as  artless 
and  unstudied,  but  as  a  man  with  unlimited  resources  in 
thought,  in  language,  and  in  the  amplification  of  his  theme; 
and  this  impression,  doubtless,  led  Newman  to  rank  him  as 
the  greatest  master  of  composition  that  the  world  has  seen. 

Characteristics  of  His  Epistolary  Style. —  There  are  three 
characteristics  that  lend  value  to  the  letters  of  Cicero :  first,  a 
methodical  development  of  thought  —  a  characteristic  of  all  his 
literary  work  and  one  rather  too  strongly  emphasized  in  these 
letters  of  friendship.  Cicero  was  a  profound  student  of  phi- 
losophy as  well  as  of  literature;  believing  that  a  thorough 
study  of  the  former  is  essential  for  successful  interpretation 
of  and  work  in  the  latter;  and  in  his  letters  he  applied  too 
rigorously  that  method  of  thought-development,  so  highly  val- 
ued in  his  orations  and  philosophical  works.  A  second  char- 
acteristic :  a  wealth  of  literary  allusions  and  references ;  he 
was  familiar  with  all  the  departments  of  classic  verse  and 


CICERO'S  LETTERS  133 

prose.  His  favorite  authors :  in  poetry,  Homer  and  ^schylus ; 
in  philosophy,  Plato,  Aristotle  and  Zeno ;  in  history,  Xenophon 
and  Polybius.  He  writes  to  Atticus :  "  The  orator,  the 
dramatist  and  the  historian  are  the  great  educators  of  man- 
kind." A  final  characteristic  is  the  introduction  of  wit,  humor, 
pleasantry  of  all  kinds.  Unlike  Saint  Paul,  Cicero  often  for- 
gets his  seriousness  and  severity,  and  his  page  is  brightened 
with  the  playful  arid  humorous  side  of  life;  hence,  humanizing 
elements  find  a  large  expression  in  his  letters.  Like  Saint 
Paul,  Cicero  was  capable  of  most  intense  feeling,  but  then 
he  employs  the  language  of  despair,  not  of  hope.  In  the  art 
of  writing  letters  and  orations,  Cicero,  since  his  time,  has 
been  the  world's  model;  his  influence  upon  these  departments 
of  prose,  always  pronounced,  has  never  waned.  The  following 
criticism  from  the  pen  of  an  English  biographer,  Mr.  Forsyth, 
may  fittingly  close  this  examination  of  the  letters  of  Cicero : 

Criticism  by  Forsyth. — "  I  propose  to  notice  a  few  of  these 
early  letters  to  Atticus  somewhat  in  detail,  for  they  will  give 
us  a  good  idea  of  Cicero's  style  and  habits  of  thought,  and 
also  show  the  cordial  friendship  that  existed  between  these  two 
eminent  men  —  a  friendship  as  frank  as  it  was  sincere,  which 
never  varied  during  all  the  vicissitudes  of  their  lives,  and  was 
terminated  only  by  death.  In  the  first  letter  written  in  the  lat- 
ter part  of  the  year  to  Atticus  in  Epirus  on  the  Western  coast 
of  the  Adriatic,  where,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Buthrotus,  he 
had  recently  purchased  an  estate,  Cicero  begins  by  alluding 
in  feeling  language  of  affectionate  sorrow  to  the  death  of  his 
cousin,  or,  as  he  calls  him,  brother  Lucius  —  the  only  son  of 
his  uncle  Lucius  —  who  had,  as  we  have  seen,  been  associated 
with  him  in  the  prosecution  of  Verres.  Cicero  greatly  deplored 
his  loss,  and  speaks  of  him  as  a  man  endowed  with  every  ex- 
cellence, and  distinguished  by  great  sweetness  of  disposition.  He 
next  refers  to  a  subject  which  was  a  fertile  source  of  domestic 
annoyance  for  many  years, —  the  unhappy  disagreement  between 
Quintets  and  his  wife  Pomponia,  who  was  a  sister  of  Atticus. 
Quintus  was  a  man  of  hasty  temper,  easily  vexed,  but  soon  ap- 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

peased,  and  Pomponia  seems  to  have  been  a  lady  rather  apt  to  take 
offence,  and  jealous  of  her  imagined  rights,  —  what  we  may  call 
touchy,  and  inclined  to  stand  on  her  dignity.  A  little  anecdote 
which  Cicero  relates  of  her  in  one  of  his  letters,  and  which  will 
be  afterwards  mentioned,  exhibits  her  in  a  sulky  and  unamiable 
mood.  Terentia  also  and  Pomponia  did  not  get  on  very  well  to- 
gether. The  frequent  quarrels  of  the  ill-matched  pair,  Quintus 
and  Pomponia,  caused  great  distress  both  to  Cicero  and  Atticus ; 
Atticus  naturally  took  his  sister's  part,  and  his  displeasure  at  his 
brother-in-law's  conduct  was  most  probably  the  reason  why,  at  a 
later  period  he  abandoned  the  idea  he  once  entertained  of  accom- 
panying Quintus,  in  the  capacity  of  qusestor,  to  his  praetorian 
government  in  Asia  Minor.  Cicero  was  not  at  all  blind  to-  his 
brother's  faults,  but  he  also  knew  the  many  good  points  of  his 
character ;  and  it  is  pleasant  to  read  the  kind  and  affectionate 
terms  in  which  he  always  speaks  of  him,  until  unhappily  they 
quarrelled  many  years  after,  as  I  shall  have  occasion  to  relate  in 
a  subsequent  part  of  this  work.  In  the  letter  to  which  I  am  now 
alluding,  he  tells  Atticus  that  he  might  appeal  to  Pomponia  her- 
self to  say  how  earnestly  he  had  endeavored  to  induce  her  hus- 
band to  treat  her  with  proper  affection.  Quintus  was  displeased 
at  this  interference,  and  Cicero  says  that  he  had  written  to  him 
to  appease  him  as  a  brother,  to  admonish  him  as  a  junior,  and 
to  reprove  him  as  an  offender.  Other  topics  in  the  same  letter 
are  two  matters  of  business  in  which  Atticus  was  interested,  but 
about  which  nothing  certain  is  now  known.  Cicero  takes  occa- 
sion also  to  correct  his  friend  in  a  point  of  law,  and  tells  him 
that  the  doctrine  of  adverse  possession  has  no  application  in  a 
case  of  trust  or  question  of  guardianship ;  which  is  very  much 
what  an  English  lawyer  would  say  at  the  present  day.  Atticus 
had  asked  him  to  employ  his  good  offices  in  reconciling  Lucius 
to  him,  for  they  had  had  a  quarrel ;  and  Cicero  assures  him  that 
he  had  done  so,  but  to  little  purpose.  He  next  congratulates 
Atticus  on  his  recent  purchase  in  Epirus,  and  begs  him  to  re- 
member to  get  anything  which  may  be  suitable  for  his  own  Tus- 
culan  villa ;  '  for  there/  he  says,  '  in  that  place  alone  do  I  find 
rest  and  repose  from  all  my  troubles  and  toil/  This  is  the  first 
mention  that  occurs  in  Cicero's  writings  of  his  favorite  villa  at 
Tusculum,  which  he  seems  to  have  bought  only  a  short  time  be- 
fore. He  concludes  the  letter  by  telling  Atticus  that  Terentia 


CICERO'S  LETTERS  135 

is  suffering  a  good  deal  from  rheumatism  in  the  limbs ;  and  that 
she  and  his  darling  Tulliola  send  their  best  compliments  to  him, 
and  his  sister  and  mother.  The  last  words  are :  4  Be  assured  that 
I  love  you  like  a  brother.'  In  the  next  letter,  which  is  short, 
Cicero  promises  that  Atticus  shall  not  again  have  to  complain  of 
him  as  a  negligent  correspondent,  and  begs  his  friend,  who  has 
plenty  of  leisure,  to  copy  a  good  example.  He  mentions  that 
Fonteius  has  purchased  the  home  of  Rabirius  at  Naples,  which 
Atticus  had  had  some  thoughts  of  buying;  and  says  that  his 
brother  Quintus  now  seemed  to  be  on  good  terms  with  Pom- 
ponia,  and  that  they  were  both  staying  at  his  country  residence 
near  Arpinum.  The  manner  in  which  he  communicates  the  next 
piece  of  intelligence  is  disappointing,  if  we  accept  the  usual  read- 
ing. It  is  the  death  of  his  own  father,  and  all  he  says  on  the 
subject  is  this:  '  My  father  died  on  the  25th  of  November.'  He 
then  turns  off  to  ask  Atticus  to  look  out  for  appropriate  orna- 
ments for  his  Tusculan  villa.  This  looks,  to  say  the  least,  cold 
and  unfeeling;  and  yet  Cicero  was  the  very  reverse  of  being 
either  cold  or  unfeeling.  We  have  seen  that  he  deplored  in  the 
language  of  genuine  sorrow  the  loss  of  his  cousin  Lucius,  and 
we  learn  that  his  grief  for  the  death  of  his  daughter  Tullia  was 
so  excessive  that  he  was  derided  for  it  by  his  enemies.  We  are 
therefore  surprised  to  find  him  noticing  so  shortly  and  dismiss- 
ing so  summarily  the  death  of  his  excellent  father.  But  the 
truth  is  that  what  we  call  sentiment  was  almost  wholly  unknown 
to  the  ancient  Romans,  in  whose  writings  it  would  be  as  vain  to 
look  for  it  as  to  look  for  traces  of  Gothic  architecture  amongst 
classic  ruins.  And  this  is  something  more  than  a  mere  illustra- 
tion. It  suggests  a  reason  for  the  absence.  Romance  and  senti- 
ment came  from  the  dark  forests  of  the  North,  when  Scandi- 
navia and  Germany  poured  forth  their  hordes  to  subdue  and 
people  the  Roman  Empire.  The  life  of  a  citizen  of  the  Republic 
of  Rome  was  essentially  a  public  life.  The  love  of  country  was 
there  carried  to  an  extravagant  length,  and  was  paramount  to 
and  almost  swallowed  up  the  private  and  social  affections.  The 
State  was  everything ;  the  individual  comparatively  nothing.  In 
one  of  the  letters  of  the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius  to  Pronto, 
there  is  a  passage  in  which  he  says  that  the  Roman  language 
had  no  word  corresponding  with  the  Greek  ^vAooropca ,  the 
affectionate  love  for  parents  and  children.  Upon  this  Xiebuhr 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

remarks  that  the  feeling  was  '  not  a  Roman  one ;  but  Cicero 
possessed  it  in  a  degree  which  few  Romans  could  comprehend, 
and  hence  he  was  laughed  at  for  the  grief  which  he  felt  at  the 
death  of  his  daughter  Tullia.'  His  divorce  from  Terentia  ap- 
pears to  be  a  violent  exception  to  the  general  rule  of  his  charac- 
ter ;  and  we  shall  have  to  consider  hereafter  whether  he  can  or 
cannot  be  justified  for  his  conduct  on  that  occasion.  In  these 
first  letters  we  get  a  few  glimpses  of  his  domestic  life.  He  tells 
Atticus  that  his  daughter  Tulliola,  his  darling  (delicce  nostrce), 
is  betrothed  to  Calpurnius  Piso  Frugi.  This  event,  which  we 
should  have  thought  full  of  interest  to  him,  he  mentions  in  the 
most  lacoAic  manner  —  Tulliolam  C.  Pisoni  L.  F.  Frugi  despon- 
dimus.  frhe  young  lady  was  then  only  nine,  or  at  the  most 
eleve^^ars  old.  Atticus  had  promised  her  a  present,  and  Cicero 
tells  him  that  she  looked  upon  her  father  as  bail  for  the  perform- 
ance, but  he  intended  rather  to  forswear  the  obligation  than 
make  it  good.  In  another  letter  he  says  that  Tulliola  has  brought 
her  action  (diem  dat),  and  summoned  bail." 

Thus  we  learn  the  kindly  disposition,  the  playful  moods 
of  the  real  Cicero,  about  whose  letters  there  is/a  charm  to 
which  we  have  nothing  comparable  in  all  antiquity. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  LETTER  (CONTINUED) 

CHESTERFIELD 

Lord  Chesterfield. —  In  English  literature  we  coimt  a  num- 
ber of  distinguished  authors  who  have  left  permanent  con- 
tributions in  the  shape  of  letters ;  among  these,  n^jj|^pre 
distinguished  than  the  "  first  gentleman  of  Europe,"  the  glory 
of  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne  —  Lord  Chesterfield.  Like  Saint 
Paul  and  Cicero,  Lord  Chesterfield  enjoys  a  world-wide 
reputation ;  and  any  summary  of  the  history  of  letter-writing 
howsoever  meagre,  could  not  exclude  him  from  special  notice. 


BiographicSi^ata.— The  fourth  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  Philip 
Dormer  Stanhoplywas  born  in  London  on  September  22,  1694; 
in  his  early  training  he  had  all  the  advantages  that  wealth  and 
nobility  afforded.  His  education,  begun  under  private  tutors, 
was  completed  at  Cambridge.  He  traveled  much  on  the  con- 
tinent, admired  the  French  above  all  other  continental  races 
and  resolved  on  his  return  to  teach  his  boorish  countrymen, 
their  art  of  deportment  and  good  manners.  He  observed  the 
sharp  contrast  between  the  polite,  polished  Frenchman  and 
the  rough,  ill-mannered  Saxon.  He  entered  the  House  of 
Commons,  but  his  oratory  was  ineffective ;  he  lacked  force  and 
power ;  he  drifted  into  the  House  of  Lords ;  was  several  times 
a  British  Ambassador  on  the  continent  and  once  Lord  Lieu- 
tenant of  Ireland.  On  the  whole,  his  political  life  was  not 
brilliant,  but  it  brought  him  into  contact  with  the  eminent  men 

137 


I3g  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

of  his  time.  Chesterfield  is  described  as  a  man  of  splendid 
intellect,  extraordinary  fervor  and  energy,  a  close  observer 
of  life  and  conduct.  He  had  lived  in  courts  and  grew  accus- 
tomed to  all  kinds  of  diplomatic  warfare;  he  knew  all  the 
literary  and  political  lights  of  his  day.  Like  Matthew  Arnold, 
he  was  an  apostle  of  sweetness  and  light  to  the  British  Philis- 
tine. To  him  Dr.  Johnson  was  a  typical  Briton,  and  as  Ches- 
terfield termed  him,  '  a  respectable  Hottentot.'  He  contin- 
ually .complains  about  our  Teutonic  love  of  the  vast,  the 
vulgar  and  the  horrible. 

The  Charm  of  His  Manners. —  The  name  of  Chesterfield  has 
become  a  synonym  for  good  breeding  and  politeness.  It  is 
associated  in  our  minds  with  all  that  is  graceful  in  manner, 
attractive  in  appearance  and  polite  in  speech.  He  was  the  most 
popular  man  of  his  age.  His  manners  were  so- fascinating 
and  his  personal  appearance  so  attractive  that  he  was  styled 
the  first  gentleman  of  Europe.  He  forced  life,  writes  Saints- 
bury,  to  yield  him  all  the  happiness  that  it  is  capable  of  afford- 
ing; socially,  his  career  was  like  a  triumphal  procession,  not 
the  dull  round  of  cares  allotted  to  most  men.  He  may  be 
considered  as  a  splendid  type  of  the  successful  man  of  the 
world. 

Literary  Work.— The  literary  work  of  Chesterfield  is  ex- 
tensive. His  long  life  was  largely  one  of  leisure;  and  he 
devoted  much  of  it  to  various  kinds  of  writing.  He  wished 
to  become  known  as  a  patron  of  letters  and  of  literary  men. 
But  his  fame  as  a  writer  rests  exclusively  upon  a  volume  of 
letters  written  to  his  son  and  grandson,  and  first  published 
in  1744. 

Subject-Matter  of  the  Letters.— The  letters,  taken  collec- 
tively, are  a  system  of  precepts  intended  to  train  a  man  for 


CHESTERFIELD  ,  ,, , 

worldly  success.  According  to  Chesterfield,  there  are  three 
chief  sources  of  success  in  this  world :  first,  knowledge;  second, 
energy ;  third,  manners.  The  letters  of  Chesterfield  lay  almost 
equal  stress  upon  knowledge,  energy  and  good  manners.  On 
the  value  of  knowledge  he  writes  thus :  "  You  cannot  expect 
to  succeed  in  this  world  without  knowledge,  for  an  ignorant 
man  is  contemptible  and  insignificant ;  he  may  be  said  to  exist 
< —  he  does  not  live.  However  industrious  or  however  ]K)lite 
you  may  be,  you  will  never  gain  the  highest  respect  of  people 
unless  you  possess  a  cultivated  intelligence."  Lord  Chester- 
field emphasizes  two  kinds  of  knowledge :  first,  the  knowledge 
of  books.  "  I  would  have  you,"  he  writes  to  his  son,  "  ac- 
quainted with  the  best  that  has  been  thought  and  written ;  for 
acquaintance  with  the  best  thought  will  bring  you  into  the  com- 
pany of  the  ablest  minds;  it  will  stimulate  high  and  right 
thinking  in  yourself;  and  such  company  will  be  a  refuge  from 
the  cares  of  active  life.  Those  men  are  unfortunate  who  have 
not  in  youth  acquired  a  taste  for  such  study.  They  are,  so 
to  speak,  exiles  from  the  best  society."  The  second  kind  of 
knowledge  which  Chesterfield  recommends,  is  that  of  men. 
He  writes :  "  In  the  word,  knowledge,  I  comprehend  not  only 
a  knowledge  of  books,  but  also  a  knowledge  of  the  world  - 
that  knowledge  which  is  gained  from  actual  contact  with  living 
men;  and  which  for  practical  purposes  is  more  valuable  even 
than  that  of  books.  It  is  true  that  a  knowledge  »f  the  world 
can  be  acquired  only  in  the  world ;  but  I  would  have  you  begin 
this  study  now,  in  the  miniature  world  around  you ;  make  a 
careful  study  of  your  school  companions ;  observe  their  conduct 
—  the  chief  traits  of  each  character,  and  compare  one  character 
with  another  These  studies  will  serve  as  a  basis  for  the  knowl- 
edge of  mankind.  Remember  that  your  success  in  after  life 
depends  largely  upon  your  ability  to  deal  with  our  fellow  men; 
and  you  cannot  deal  with  them  successfully  unless  you  study 
and  know  them.  They  must  be  studied  as  you  study  books." 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

Energy  and  Application. —  After  knowledge,  Chesterfield 
urges  energy  as  the  second  source  of  worldly  success.  He 
constantly  repeats  this  advice  to  his  son,  to  be  energetic,  active, 
industrious.  And  in  one  of  his  letters  he  employs  that  fre- 
quently quoted  maxim :  Whatever  is  worth  doing  at  all,  is 
worth  doing  well.  Writing  about  energy  as  a  factor  in 
worldly  success,  Chesterfield  insists  upon  the  necessity  of  form- 
ing in  youth  a  just  estimate  of  the  value  of  time.  "  Wrhoever 
values  time  aright  will  form  habits  of  industry.  He  will  be 
energetic  and  active.  What  I  do,  and  ever  shall  regret,  is  the 
time  which  while  young  I  lost  in  mere  idleness  and  in  doing 
nothing.  This  is  a  common  defect  of  youth  against  which  I 
beg  you  will  be  most  carefully  upon  your  guard.  Every  mo- 
ment may  be  of  some  use,  even  moments  devoted  to  pleasure 
and  recreation,  for  the  mind  may  be  always  alert ;  and  society 
will  yield  knowledge  as  well  as  pleasure."  Again  he  writes : 
"  Whatever  you  do,  do  it  with  all  your  power,  with  all  your 
energies  centered  therein  for  the  time  being.  Success  depends 
upon  the  concentration  and  the  awakening  of  all  one's  energies ; 
while  failure  is  too  frequently  the  result  of  a  slovenly  and  par- 
tial application  of  these  energies.  I  beg  of  you  to  pardon  my 
repetition  of  this  advice,  but  I  would  have  you  energetic  in 
youth,  especially  in  the  mastery  of  knowledge;  for  remember 
that  whatever  knowledge  you  do  not  solidly  lay  the  foundation 
of  in  youth, .you  will  never  be  master  of  while  you  breathe." 

Good  Manners.—  Finally,  the  letters  of  Chesterfield  empha- 
size the  necessity  of  good  manners  as  a  condition  and  source 
of  success  in  the  world.  His  letters  have  become  famous  on 
account  of  their  extensive  and  careful  treatment  of  this  sub- 
ject. Fourteen  letters  are  devoted  exclusively  to  a  discussion 
of  the  rules  of  right  conduct ;  and  — throughout  the  remaining 
letters  this  subject  is  repeatedly  introduced.  He  writes  :  "  You 
must  always  expect  to  hear  more  or  less  from  me  upon  the 


CHESTERPIELD  !4I 

subject  of  good  manners.  Great  talent  and  industry  will  gain 
the  esteem  of  mankind ;  but  politeness  and  good  manners  are 
equally  necessary  to  success.  Intrinsic  merit  will  win  the  ad- 
miration of  all :  it  will  not  win  the  affections  of  any.  All 
people  are  not  judges  of  great  learning  and  talent ;  but  all  men 
understand  civility ;  they  understand  when  conduct  is  obliging 
and  agreeable;  they  easily  and  quickly  determine  good-breed- 
ing." Chesterfield  is  accused  of  over-estimating  the  value  of 
politeness.  But  the  world  agrees  with  him  in  three  particu- 
lars :  first,  that  any  man  who  respects  himself  should  on  all 
occasions  and  under  all  circumstances  act  the  gentleman;  sec- 
ond, that  good  breeding  is  to  all  worldly  qualifications  what 
charity  is  to  all  Christian  virtues ;  third,  that  for  success  in  pub- 
lic life,  politeness  and  good  manners  are  absolutely  necessary. 

Literary  Merit  of  His  Letters, — The  style,  as  well  as  the 
subject-matter,  makes  these  letters  immortal.  For  the  man 
who  advocated  theaitmost  gracefulness  in  conduct,  and  who  ex- 
hibited it  in  his  life,  was  no  less  graceful  in  the  manner  of 
his  writing.  "  The  letters,"  says  Hutton,  "are  models  of  neat- 
ness, elegance,  purity  of  diction ;  they  are  ideal  in  the  graceful 
adjustment  of  form  to  subject-matter/'  Chesterfield  in  this 
species  of  composition  gives  the  following  advice  to  his  cor- 
respondent :  "  The  art  of  letter-writing  is  by  no  means  an 
easy  one  to  master.  The  familiar  letters  which  you  write 
should  be  patterned  after  conversation,  where  the  highest  art 
is  to  conceal  art ;  a  letter  of  that  kind  should  seem  easy,  natural 
and  not  smell  of  the  lamp;  the  smallest  traces  of  artifice  are 
offensive.  Above  all,  let  your  letters  speak  what '  I  trust  in 
God  you  will  always  feel  —  the  utmost  gentleness  and  hu- 
manity." 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  LETTER  (CONTINUED) 

MISCELLANEOUS  EXAMPLES 

\ 

Pliny. —  Pliny,  surnamed  "  The  Younger,"  in  order  to  dis- 
tinguish him  from  the  elder  Pliny,  his  uncle,  was  born  at 
Como,  Italy,  62  A.  D. ;  died  1 13  A.  D.  He  took  the  name  of 
Caecilius  from  his  father,  who  had  married  Plinia,  the  elder 
Pliny's  sister.  Pliny  is  described  as  a  man  of  refined  taste, 
highly  accomplished,  devoted  to  literature,  kind  and  indulgent 
to  his  freedmen  and  his  slaves,  gentle  and  considerate  in  all 
his  family  relations,  just  in  his  dealings,  munificent  in  the  use 
of  his  wealth,  humane  and  forgiving  to  all  who  had  offended 
him.  He  was  a  lawyer  by  profession,  a  pupil  of  the  famous 
Quintilian.  His  letters  were  directed  for  the  most  part,  to 
the  Emperor  Trajan  who  had  the  sincerest  regard  and  affec- 
tion for  their  author. 

Value  of  these  Letters. — There  are  few  remains  of  Latin 
prose  literature  so  elegant,  interesting  and  varied  as  Pliny's 
letters.  They  were  written  and  published  on  the  model  of 
Cicero's  letters,  and  they  cannot  fairly  be  called  inferior  to 
those  of  Cicero  himself.  They  are  all  carefully  composed 
and  couched  in  the  most  graceful  and  polished  Latinity.  Blair 
writes  the  following  criticism :  "  Pliny's  letters  are  one  of  the 
most  celebrated  collections  which  the  ancients  have  given  us, 
in  the  epistolary  way.  They  are  elegant  and  polite,  and  ex- 
hibit a  very  pleasing  and  amiable  view  of  the  author.  Indeed, 
they  are  too  elegant  and  fine;  and  it  is  not  easy  to  avoid 

142 


MISCELLANEOUS  EXAMPLES 

thinking  that  the  author  is  casting  an  eye  towards  the  pub- 
lic, when  he  is  appearing  to  write  only  for  his  friends.  Noth- 
ing, indeed,  is  more  difficult  than  for  an  author,  who  publishes 
his  own  letters  to  divest  himself  altogether  of  attention  to  the 
opinion  of  the  world  in  what  he  says;  by  which  means  he 
becomes  much  less  agreeable  than  a  man  of  parts  would 
be,  if  without  any  constraint  of  this  sort  he  were  writing  to 
his  intimate  friend." 

Pascal. —  He  was  born  at  Clermont-Ferrand  on  June  IQ, 
1623  ;  died  at  Paris,  August  19,  1662.  He  was  a  distinguished 
French  philosopher,  geometrician,  writer.  His  literary  ac- 
tivity was  due  to  his  connection  with  the  celebrated  monastery 
of  Port-Royal.  He  rose  to  the  highest  literary  excellence  in 
setting  forth  and  defending  the  doctrines  of  Port-Royal  against 
the  Jesuits.  As  a  result  we  have  a  collection  of  letters  that 
enjoy  a  world-wide  reputation. 

Value  of  His  Letters. —  The  following  criticism  is  offered 
by  Professor  Saintsbury : 

Criticism  by  Saintsbury. — "  These  letters  of  Pascal  are  the 
first  example  of  French  prose  which  is  at  once  considerable  in 
bulk,  varied  and  important  in  matter,  perfectly  finished  in  form. 
They  owe  not  a  little  to  Descartes,  for  Pascal's  indebtedness  to 
his  predecessor  is  unquestionably  from  the  literary  side.  The 
unanimity  of  eulogy  as  to  the  style  of  these  wonderful  letters 
has  sometimes  tempted  foreigners  who  feel  or  affect  to  feel 
an  inability  to  judge  for  themselves,  into  a  kind  of  scepticism 
for  which  there  is  absolutely  no  ground.  The  first  example  of 
polite  controversial  irony  since  Lucian,  these  letters  have  con- 
tinued to  be  the  best  example  of  it  during  more  than  two  cen- 
turies, in  which  the  style  has  been  sedulously  practiced,  and  in 
which  they  have  furnished  a  model  to  generation  after  genera- 
tion without  being  surpassed  by  any  of  the  works  to  which  they 
have  shown  the  way.  The  unfailing  freshness  and  charm  of 
the  contrast  between  the  importance,  the  gravity,  in  some  cases 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

the  dry  and  abstruse  nature  of  their  subjects  and  the  light- 
ness, sometimes  almost  approaching  levity  in  its  special  sense, 
of  the  manner  in  which  these  subjects  are  attacked,  is  a  triumph 
of  literary  art  of  which  no  familiarity  dims  the  splendor,  and 
which  no  lapse  of  time  can  ever  impair.  The  vividness  and 
distinction  of  Pascal's  phrase,  his  singular  faculty  of  inserting 
in  the  gravest  and  most  impassioned  meditation,  what  may 
almost  be  called  quips  of  thought  and  diction  without  any  loss 
of  dignity,  the  intense  earnestness  of  meaning,  weighting  but 
not  confusing  the  style,  all  appear  in  his  '  Thoughts '  and 
'  Letters.'  " 

"  Junius." —  An  unknown  writer  employing  this  signature, 
wrote  a  volume  of  world-famous  letters,  the  authorship  of 
which  has  baffled  the  critics  of  two  centuries.  These  letters 
were  written  between  January  21,  1769,  and  January  21,  1772. 
They  were  published  in  the  Public  Advertiser,  a  popular  news- 
paper of  the  period.  They  attacked  the  King  and  the  officials 
of  government.  Edmund  Burke  remarked  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  "  For  my  part,  when  I  read  this  attack  upon  the 
King,  I  own  my  blood  ran  cold ;  Kings,  Lords  and  Commons 
are  the  sport  of  his  fury."  The  authorship  of  these  letters 
has  been  attributed  to  no  less  than  thirty-five  persons  —  prob- 
ably to  none  with  a  better  show  of  reason  than  to  Sir  Philip 
Francis.  But  although  the  authorship  is  unknown,  these  let- 
ters, next  to  those  of  Chesterfield,  are  the  most  famous  in  our 
literature. 

Value  of  the  Letters.—  Mr.  Wade,  in  his  preface  to  The  Let- 
ters offers  the  following  criticism :  "  As  there  is  little  in  the 
subject-matter  of  these  famous  epistles  that  could  confer  upon 
them  such  enduring  celebrity,  they  must  be  mainly  indebted 
for  it  to  the  writer's  extraordinary  powers,  the  varied  resources 
of  which  have  enabled  him,  with  the  peculiar  characteristic  of 
genius,  to  dignify  and  immortalize  that  which  in  its  own  na- 
ture, is  secondary  and  perishable.  In  this  respect  Junius 


MISCELLANEOUS  EXAMPLES  1 45 

stands  alone  —  he  is  the  Napoleon  of  public  writers;  and,  like 
the  author  of  the  first  and  noblest  epic,  though  he  has  a  host 
of  imitators,  he  is  still  without  an  equal."  Mr.  John  M.  Good, 
a  contemporary  critic,  writes  :  "  The  classic  purity  of  their  lan- 
guage, the  exquisite  force  and  perspicuity  of  their  argument, 
the  keen  severity  of  their  reproach,  the  extensive  information 
they  evince,  their  fearless  and  decisive  tone,  and,  above  all,  their 
stern  and  steady  attachment  to  the  purest  principles  of  the  con- 
stitution, acquired  for  them,  with  almost  electric  speed,  a  popu- 
larity which  no  series  of  letters  have  since  possessed,  nor  per- 
haps ever  will;  and,  what  is  of  far  greater  consequence, 
diffused  among  the  body  of  the  people  a  clearer  knowledge  of 
their  constitutional  rights  than  they  had  ever  before  attained. 
Enveloped  in  the  cloud  of  a  fictitious  name,  the  writer  of  these 
letters,  unseen  himself,  beheld  with  secret  satisfaction  the  vast 
influence  of  his  labors,  and  enjoyed  the  universal  hunt  that 
was  made  to  detect  him  in  his  disguise  —  he  beheld  the  people 
extolling  him,  the  court  execrating  him,  the  ministers,  and 
more  than  ministers,  trembling  beneath  the  lash  of  his"  invisible 
hand." 

Newman. —  Cardinal  Newman,  "  the  English  Cicero,"  was 
born  in  London,  Feb.  21,  1801 ;  died  at  Edgboston,  August  1 1, 
1890.  An  unrivalled  master  of  English  prose,  Newman  has 
left  several  volumes  of  letters,  two  of  which  were  published 
recently.  The  following  criticism  of  his  style  is  offered  by 
the  Editor  of  this  Manual :  There  is  a  peculiar  charm  about 
the  prose  writings  of  Newman,  particularly  so  after  his  liter- 
ary powers  had  fully  matured.  This  charm  is  emphasized  in 
his  letters,  where  the  restraints  of  publicity  are  thrown  off,  and 
a  revelation  of  his  winning  personality  is  made.  If  the  letter 
be  a  revelation  of  character,  then  the  letters  of  Newman  are  a 
literary  prize,  for  they  reveal  those  traits  and  gifts  of  mind 
and  heart,  which  endear  him  to  the  English  world.  There  is 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

the  full  play  of  humor,  the  vivacity  of  spirit,  which  resembles  a 
youth  on  holiday,  the  warmth  and  color  of  personal  experience, 
the  frequent  allusion  drawn  from  his  stores  of  classic  learning, 
and  above  all,  a  fund  of  good  nature.  In  his  letters,  the  asper- 
ities of  polemic  writing  give  place  to  '  humanism  '  in  the  strict 
sense  of  that  word.  As  Tennyson  says  :  "  A  warmth  within 
the  breast,  melts  the  freezing  reason's  colder  part."  There  is, 
in  the  style  of  Newman,  a  twofold  quality  —  the  intellectual 
quality  resulting  from  the  careful  discipline  of  an  extraordi- 
nary mind  —  the  freedom  from  artifice,  the  colloquial  manner; 
the  grace,  ease,  and  charm  which  result  from  this  happy  union, 
are  perceived  at  a  cursory  glance.  Perhaps  Newman  is 
equaled  by  no  other  writer  in  combining  a  hap-hazard  manner 
with  a  very  definite  purpose. 

It  is  necessary  to  notice  here,  in  connection  with  his  letters, 
only  that  happy  colloquial  manner,  that  urbanity  and  half- 
careless  desultoriness  which  characterize  so  much  of  his  epis- 
tolary correspondence;  for  if  we  accept  the  open  letter  ad- 
dressed to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  a  letter  which  approaches 
the  essay  or  treatise  in  style,  we  must  see  how  closely  he 
modelled  his  epistolary  style  upon  Cicero,  whose  urbanity,  ease 
and  freedom  suggest  the  polite  familiarity  of  conversation 
without  any  accompanying  tendency  to  be  either  commonplace 
or  vulgar.  But  after  the  last  word  of  criticism  is  uttered,  the 
charm  of  Newman's  letters  is  the  charm  of  a  unique  and  de- 
lightful personality. 

Pope  and  Swift. —  A  choice  collection  of  letters  comes  from 
the  pens  of  Pope  and  Swift  and  their  contemporary  friends,  a 
collection  which  Blair  calls  the  most  celebrated  in  our  litera- 
ture. He  writes :  "  This  collection  is,  on  the  whole,  an  en- 
tertaining and  agreeable  one;  it  contains  very  much  wit  and 
ingenuity.  It  is  not,  however,  altogether  free  from  the  fault 
imputed  to  Pliny's  epistles,  of  too  much  study  and  refinement. 


-MISCELLANEOUS  EXAMPLES 

In  the  variety  of  letters  from  Pope  and  his  friends,  we  find 
many  that  are  written  with  ease  and  a  beautiful  simplicity. 
The  letters  of  Dean  Swift  exhibit  his  character  fully,  with  all 
its  defects ;  hence  they  are  not  open  to  the  charge  of  artificiality. 
But  such  is  not  the  case  with  Mr.  Pope  —  the  censure  of  writ- 
ing letters  in  too  artificial  a  manner  falls  heaviest  upon  him ;  he 
is  too  fond  of  writing  like  a  wit,  and  his  letters  to  ladies  are 
full  of  affectation." 

Walpole.—  Horace  Walpole,  the  fourth  Earl  of  Oxford,  was 
born  at  London,  October  5,  1717;  died  there  March  2,  1797. 
His  literary  activity  lay  chiefly  in  the  department  of  Memoirs 
and  Letters;  of  the  former  the  most  remarkable  are  the  Me- 
moirs of  George  II.  and  George  III.  Of  the  latter,  many  vol- 
umes were  written,  some  fourteen  in  all.  The  following  criti- 
cism is  offered  by  William  P.  Courtney :  "  The  pen  was  ever  in 
Walpole's  hand  and  his  entire  compositions  would  fill  many  vol- 
umes. But  his  delightful  Letters  are  the  crowning  glory  of 
his  life.  His  correspondents  were  numerous  and  wide- 
spread." The  Letters  were  published  at  different  dates,  but. 
the  standard  collection  is  that  by  Peter  Cunningham  (9  vols., 
1857).  Walpole  has  been  styled  the  best  letter-writer  in  the 
English  language;  and  few,  indeed,  are  the  names  which  can 
compare  with  his.  In  these  letters  his  very  foibles  are  penned 
for  our  amusement,  and  his  love  of  trifles  —  for,  in  the  words 
of  another  Horace,  he  was  ever  "  nescis  quid  meditans  nugarum 
ct  totus  in  illis  " —  minister  to  our  instruction.  Through  the 
medium  of  the  letter  he  communicated  to  his  friends  every 
fashionable  scandal,  every  social  event,  and  the  details  of  every 
political  struggle  in  English  life.  Perhaps  the  best  critical  es- 
timate of  the  author  may  be  found  in  Macaulay's  sketch  of  his 
life  and  character. 

Montagu  and  Sevigne. —  Lady  Mary  Montagu  and  Madame 
de  Sevigne  are  perhaps  the  most  distinguished  women-writers 


I4g  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

in  this  department  of  literature.  The  former  was  a  contem- 
porary of  Pope,  born  in  London  in  1690;  died  in  1762;  the 
latter  was  born  at  Paris,  1626;  died,  1696.  The  letters  of 
both  women  are  classics. 

Criticism  by  Thomas  B.  Shaw. — "  Lady  Mary  Montagu  de- 
scribed her  travels  over  Europe  and  the  East  in  those  delightful 
letters  which  have  given  her  in  English  literature  a  place  resem- 
bling that  of  Madame  de  Sevigne  in  the  literature  of  France. 
Lady  Mary  was  the  first  traveler  who  gave  a  familiar,  picturesque 
and  animated  account  of  Oriental  society,  particularly  of  the 
internal  life  and  manners  of  the  Seraglio,  to  which  her  sex  and 
her  high  position  gave  her  unusual  facilities  of  access.  Ad- 
mirable common  sense,  observation,  vivacity,  extensive  reading 
without  a  trace  of  pedantry,  and  a  pleasant  tinge  of  half-playful 
sarcasm,  are  the  qualities  which  distinguish  her  correspondence. 
The  style  is  perfection ;  the  simplicity  and  natural  elegance  of 
the  high-born  and  high-bred  lady  combined  with  the  ease  of 
the  thorough  woman  of  the  world.  The  moral  tone,  indeed,  is 
far  from  being  high,  for  neither  the  character  nor  the  career 
of  Lady  Mary  had  been  such  as  to  cherish  a  very  scrupulous 
delicacy.  I  have  compared  her  to  Madame  de  Sevigne,  but 
the  differences  between  the  two  charming  writers  are  no  less 
striking  than  the  resemblances.  In  Lady  Mary  there  is  no  trace 
of  that  intense  and  even  morbid  maternal  affection  which 
breathes  through  every  line  of  the  letters  addressed  to  Madame 
de  Grignan ;  nor  is  there  any  of  that  fetish-like  worship  of 
the  court  which  seems  to  pervade  everything  written  in  the 
chilling  and  tinsel  atmosphere  that  surrounded  Louis  XIV.  In 
wit,  animation,  and  the  power  of  hitting  off,  by  a  few  felicitous 
touches,  a  character  or  a  scene,  it  is  difficult  to  assign  the  palm  of 
superiority.  Lady  Mary  was  unquestionably  a  woman  of  far 
higher  intellectual  calibre,  and  of  a  much  wider  literary  develop- 
ment. She  can  reason  and  draw  inferences  where  Madame  de 
Sevigne  can  only  gossip,  though  it  must  be  allowed  that  her  gos- 
sip is  the  most  delicious  in  the  world."  .  .  . 

Owing  to  her  intimacy  with  the  French  Court,  her  letters 
are  valuable  from  an  historical  point  of  view  as  well  as  for 
charm  of  expression. 


MISCELLANEOUS  EXAMPLES  149 

Modern  Examples. —  The  singular  charm  and  grace  of  style 
found  in  the  following  collections  is  admitted  by  all  critics : 
The  Letters  of  Matthew  Arnold,  Coleridge,  Carlyle,  the 
Brownings,  Shelley,  Moore,  Byron,  Johnson,  Goldsmith, 
Cowper,  Goethe,  Schiller,  Voltaire,  Balzac,  Renan,  Gladstone, 
Emerson,  Hawthorne,  Lincoln,  and  the  encyclical  Letters  of 
Leo  XIII.  Some  of  these  collections  are  combined  with  the 
biographies  of  the  authors,  which  must  tend  to  make  them 
all  the  more  entertaining  and  instructive.  Almost  every  lit- 
erary man  of  note  in  modern  times  has  made  some  contribution 
to  this  department  of  literature.  (For  choice  specimens  of  the 
Letter,  see  Appendix  I.) 

Works  of  Criticism. —  No  attempt  has  been  made,  as  yet,  to 
deal  adequately  with  the  criticism  of  the  Letter.  Criticism 
exists,  but  only  in  a  fragmentary  form,  and  in  connection  with 
other  and  more  important  works.  Perhaps  the  largest  amount 
of  it  is  to  be  found  in  prefaces  to  volumes  of  Letters ;  in  Biog- 
raphies and  Memoirs,  and  in  the  larger  Encyclopaedias. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
THE  ESSAY 

A  Standard  Prose-Form. —  The  essay  is  a  term  applied  to  a 
species  of  prose-writing  which  ranks  just  above  the  letter  on  the 
scale  of  prose-forms.  It  is  recognized  as  a  standard  prose- 
form  ;  and  in  English  literature  has  held  a  place  since  the  days 
of  Queen  Elizabeth.  At  the  present  time  it  is  the  most  popular 
form  in  the  prose  department,  owing  to  the  universal  popu- 
larity of  magazines  and  other  periodical  literature. 

The  Meaning  of  the  Word. —  The  word,  essay,  comes  direct- 
ly from  the  French;  indirectly,  from  the  Latin.  Originally 
it  denoted  a  certain  weight  equivalent  to  il/2  drachmae.  In 
French  it  had  the  meaning  of  trial,  contest,  or  attempt.  In 
English  the  word  essay,  retained  this  meaning;  it  signified 
a  trial  of  strength,  and  applied  equally  to  physical  and  mental 
acts.  For  example,  a  boat-race  in  the  English  Channel 
was  called  a  "  brilliant  essay  "  by  a  sixteenth  century  writer. 
Outside  of  literature,  the  word  still  retains  the  meaning  of 
trial  or  attempt.  For  example,  Irving's  Sketch-Book:  "  Our 
first  essay  in  travel  to  catch  fish  was  along  a  mountain  brook. " 
Tennyson's  Ode  to  Memory:  "  Thou  needs  must  love  thy 
first  essay."  The  accent  is  thrown  on  the  last  syllable  wherever 
the  word  is  used  in  its  literal  meaning. 

The  Word,  Essay,  in  Literature. —  The  word  essay  meant 
originally  a  rough  draft  or  first  effort  in  practice.  It  implied 
a  want  of  finish,  an  irregular,  crude  piece  of  work.  Thus  de- 

'150 


THE  ESSAY  l$l 

fined,  the  essay  embraced  all  kinds  of  miscellaneous  writing. 
For  example,  Cowley  speaks  thus  of  his  translations :  "  This 
essay  is  but  to  show  you  how  the  classics  look  in  English 
habit."  Dryden  writes:  "I  have  made  an  essay  of  a  letter 
to  your  Highness  —  one  which  must  needs  be  corrected."  The 
word  essay  applied  equally  to  verse.  For  example,  Addison 
referred  to  his  tragedy  of  Cato  as  a  "  modest  essay."  The 
best 'poetical  work  of  Pope  received  the  title  of  essay:  "  The 
Essay  on  Man."  "  The  Essay  on  Criticism."  The  title  of 
essay  is  no  longer  applied  to  poetry. 

Modern  Use. —  In  modern  times  the  word  essay  is  restricted 
to  prose.  It  is  applied  by  some  writers  to  a  whole  volume 
in  prose.  For  example,  Cardinal  Newman's  "  Essay  in  Aid 
of  a  Grammar  of  Assent  "  or  his  "  Essay  on  the  Development 
of  Christian  Doctrine;"  both  of  these  are  large  and  complete 
volumes.  Locke's  "Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding;" 
Burke's  "Essay  on  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful;"  Freeman's 
"  Essay  on  the  Norman  Conquest ;"  Butler's  "  Essay  on  Nat- 
ural and  Revealed  Religion  "  are  all  examples  in  point.  It  is  so 
used  whenever  a  writer  feels  that  his  effort  lacks  compre- 
hensiveness or  whenever  the  subject  of  the  prose  volume  is 
partially  or  inadequately  treated.  This  application  of  the  term 
to  a  whole  volume  is  gradually  dying  out.  The  essay,  as  now 
understood,  properly  applies  to  a  single,  distinct,  department 
of  prose. 

A  Definition  of  the  Essay  as  a  Standard  Prose-Form. — 
Lord  Bacon,  who  first  employed  this  prose-form  in  English, 
defines  his  essays  as  a  series  of  notes  set  down  significantly. 
He  writes  in  the  preface :  "  I  have  called  these  brief  notes 
essays ;  the  word  is  late,  but  the  thing:  is  ancient ;  for  Seneca's 
Epistles,  if  you  mark  them  well,  are  naught  but  essays." 
Bacon  adopted  this  prose-form  from  the  French,  using  Mon- 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

taigne  as  a  model ;  and  he  evidently  employed  the  term  in  its 
primitive  meaning  as  a  crude  literary  attempt,  fragmentary 
rather  than  complete.  In  modern  times  the  essay  represents 
something  quite  different  from  a  rough  draft  or  first  sketch. 
During  the  past  three  centuries  it  has  been  improved  and  pol- 
ished by  such  writers  as  Addison,  Dryden,  Lamb,  Macaulay, 
Arnold,  and  at  present  it  represents  the  very  best  literary  work 
of  which  a  prose  writer  is  capable.  It  is  defined  as  a  brief 
prose  Composition,  highly  finished,  with  unity  of  theme  and 
methodical  development  of  thought. 

A  Work  of  Art. —  Because  the  essay  possesses  unity  of  theme 
and  methodical  development,  it  ranks  higher  than  the  letter 
on  the  scale  of  prose-forms.  In  fact,  it  is  distinguished  from 
all  miscellaneous  writing  by  these  characteristics.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  distinguished  from  higher  prose-forms  by  its 
briefness.  This  characteristic  has  always  marked  the  essay. 
The  treatment  given  to  any  theme  in  an  essay  is  necessarily 
incomplete  and  inadequate,  owing  to  limitations.  In  this  re- 
spect the  essay  bears  the  same  relation  to  higher  prose-forms 
that  the  Lyric  bears  to  higher  forms  in  poetry.  Like  the 
Lyric,  the  essay  is  brief;  and,  like  the  Lyric,  it  demands  the 
highest  literary  finish  and  perfection.  Addison,  who  has  done 
some  of  the  best  work  in  this  department,  gives  the  following 
descriptive  definition  of  the  essay :  "  The  essay  is  neither  a 
dissertation  nor  a  thesis ;  properly  speaking,  it  is  a  work  of  art, 
and  must  conform  to  artistic  rules.  Hence,  it  requires  unity; 
it  must  hang  together,  and  round  itself  off  into  a  separate  lit- 
erary entity.  When  written,  the  essay  should  be  able  to  remain 
a  lasting  contribution  to  literature."  De  Quincey  writes :  "  An 
essayist  should  make  every  sentence  sparkle;  he  is  never  per- 
mitted to  be  a  dull  or  slovenly  workman.  He  should  be  always 
at  his  best;  for  the  narrow  limit  within  which  the  essayist 
works  demands  superior  merit  in  the  performance." 


?  CHAPTER    XXII 

ft 

THE  ESSAY  (CONTINUED) 

Origin  and  Development.—  The  essay  is  found  in  the  oldest 
literature.  As  Bacon  remarks,  the  name  is  new,  but  the  thing 
itself  is  ancient.  In  the  Bible  and  in  the  oldest  Greek  and  Latin 
literature,  the  essay  holds  a  place. 

The  Biblical  Essay.—  The  Hebrews  did  not  give  to  the  essay 
that  isolated  character  which  it  now  possesses.  We  have  no 
evidence  that  it  was  ranked  by  them  as  an  independent  prose- 
form;  they  invariably  made  it  a  part  of  a  chapter  or  a  book. 
And  it  resembles  in  the  Bible  the  linked  essay  of  modern  times 
where  several  essays  deal  with  a  single  theme,  and  afterward 
become  chapters  in  a  large  volume.  The  literary  study  of  the 
Bible  demands  the  separation  of  verse  from  prose  and  their 
subdivision  into  the  various  literary  forms.  Among  these 
forms,  the  essay  in  prose  and  the  lyric  in  verse  are  found  scat- 
tered throughout  the  mass  of  Hebrew  literature.  The  essay 
prevails' in  those  parts  occupied  with  story,  history  and  moral 
philosophy.  For  example,  Exodus,  Judges,  Ecclesiasticus  and 
Ecclesiastes  and  throughout  the  Wisdom  literature. 

Definition. —  The  Biblical  essay  is  denned  by  Moulton  as  "  a 
number  of  miscellaneous  thoughts  collected  around  a  common 
theme."  It  lacks  the  coherence  and  literary  finish  of  the 
modern  essay.  The  Biblical  essay  is  much  shorter  than  the 
modern  essay.  It  resembles  the  essays  of  Lord  Bacon.  The 
Biblical  essay  developed  from  two  sources  :  In  Wisdom  litera- 

153 


I54  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

ture  it  came  from  the  proverbs,  the  order  being:  first,  the 
proverb ;  second,  the  proverb-cluster ;  finally,  the  essay.  In  the 
historical  Books,  the  essay  was  the  first  crude  attempt  of 
Hebrew  writers  to  give  unity  and  coherence  to  incidents  of  their 
narrative.  Incidents  in  the  life  of  these  wandering  nomads 
became  themes  or  titles  for  their  Historical  essays.  Hebrew 
writers,  in  sharp  contrast  with  the  Greeks,  cared  very  little  for 
art-form.  Hence,  the  prose  forms  of  the  Bible,  including  the 
essay,  are  not  only  the  oldest  but  perhaps  the  poorest  models 
from  an  artistic  point  of  view.  However,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  Montaigne,  Bacon  and  Feltham  imitated  the  Biblical  essay 
in  some  particulars,  especially  in  their  synthesis  of  thought  and 
brevity  of  sentence.  Their  talent  for  packing  thought  in  the 
smallest  compass  was  evidently  stimulated  by  Biblical  example. 
Montaigne  admitted  that  the  Bible  taught  him  how  to  express 
his  thoughts. in  the  briefest  and  simplest  way.  And  this  is  the 
chief  reason  why  the  Bible  remains  a  prose  model  for  writers 
of  every  age. 

The  Essay  Among  the  Greeks.— In  Greek  literature  the 
essay  is  found  as  a  distinct  prose-form.  The  Greeks  who  have 
furnished  all  models  in  verse  and  prose,  have  left  a  body  of 
literature  in  the  form  of  the  essay.  Considered  as  a  literary 
form,  the  essay  among  the  Greeks  was  of  late  growth.  The 
first  literary  effort  of  the  Greeks  consisted  in  song  and  narra- 
tive, culminating  in  the  epic.  After  the  singer  came  the  his- 
torian, when  the  Greeks  were  willing  to  exchange  myths  and 
legends  for  the  facts  of  history.  The  lyric,  the  drama,  the  epic 
in  verse,  and  history,  biography  and  fiction  in  prose,  preceded 
the  essay  in  Greek  literature. 

A  Period  of  Criticism.— When  Xenophon,  the  first  Greek 
essayist  appeared,  430  B.  C,  Greek  literature  had  passed 
through  its  greatest  creative  period;  just  as  English  literature 


THE  ESSAY  ,^ 

had  done  when  Addison  and  Steele  began  to  write.  When 
Xenophon  appeared,  an  age  of  criticism  had  succeeded  ages  of 
literary  creation,  and  Greek  society  had  grown  complex,  self- 
conscious  and  introspective.  Materials  for  criticism,  both  in 
life  and  literature,  had  accumulated  before  the  essays  of  Xeno- 
phon appeared.  Xenophon  was  an  Athenian  by  birth.  Like 
London  in  the  English  world,  Athens  was  then  the  center  of 
literary  activity  in  Greece ;  and  Xenophon  found  abundant  ma- 
terial for  criticism  in  the  Athenian  life  and  literature,  just  as 
Acldison  found  it  in  the  England  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Like  Addison,  Xenophon  preferred  to  treat  of  social,  domestic 
and  political  matters  in  his  essays.  The  literary  reputation  of  - 
Xenophon  rests  upon  three  kinds  of  work :  history  in  the 
Anabasis ;  the  historical  novel  in  the  Cyropaedia  or  boyhood 
of  Cyrus ;  and  finally,  the  essay.  Of  his  voluminous  essays  ten 
are  still  preserved ;  by  far  the  larger  number  are  lost.  Among 
those  preserved,  we  find  such  titles  as  Domestic  Economy, 
Horsemanship,  the  Duties  of  a  Cavalry  Officer,  the  Revenues 
of  Athens,  Praise  of  a  Spartan  King.  The  essays  preserved 
are,  with  two  exceptions,  essays  in  criticism.  They  are  brief 
compositions  in  prose,  highly  finished,  with  unity  of  theme. 
In  these  essays  Xenophon  supplied  the  literary  world  with  a 
new  prose-form  which  has  been  in  vogue  ever  since  his  time, 
430  B.  C. 

Classifications  of  Greek  Essay. —  The  Greeks  divided  the 
essay  into  five  classes,  the  monograph,  dialogue,  symposium, 
eulogy  and  memoir. 

Monograph. —  The  monograph,  as' the  name  indicates,  is  an 
essay  dealing  with  a  single  theme  and  representing  the  original 
discoveries  or  investigations  of  a  single  writer.  It  was  sup- 
plied by  Xenophon  in  his  essay  on  horsemanship;  because  the 
writer  believed  that  his  essay  contained  an  original  investiga- 


!^6  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

tion  into  the  methods  for  raising  and  training  horses.  In 
modern  times  the  monograph  is  exactly  synonymous  with  the 
scientific  essay.  It  is  applied  to  all  brief  prose  compositions 
embodying  original  research.  As  science  deals  with  parts  and 
details  of  a  class  or  species,  this  prose-form  is  admirably  suited 
to  scientific  investigation. 

Modern  Use. — All  scientists  of  modern  times  have  made  use  of 
the  monograph.  Some  celebrated  examples  of  the  monograph 
in  modern  scientific  literature :  Pasteur's  Monograph  on  the 
Silk  Worm;  Huxley's  Monograph  on  a  Piece  of  Chalk;  Mi- 
vart's  Monograph  on  the  Skeleton;  Darwin's  Monograph  on 
Coral  Reefs;  Virchow's  Monograph  on  the  formation  of  Cells; 
Tyndall's  Monograph  on  Heat  as  a  Mode  of  Motion.  Original 
investigation  in  any  department  of  science  is  now  published,  as 
a  rule,  in  the  form  of  the  monograph.  This  use  is  as  old  as 
science  itself;  for  there  is  in  ancient  Greek  literature  a  mono- 
graph by  Euclid  on  Optics;  and  another  on  Harmony  of 
Sounds  by  the  same  writer.  The  monographs  of  Archimedes 
on  Spirals  and  on  the  Measurement  of  the  Circle,  are  examples 
in  point. 

The  Dialogue. —  In  the  department  of  science  the  Greek 
essay  was  called  a  monograph  to  indicate  its  chief  character- 
istics as  a  work  of  individual  research.  In  philosophy  the  es- 
say received  two  names,  it  was  called  either  a  dialogue  or  a 
symposium.  It  received  the  title  of  dialogue  when  two  per- 
sons were  introduced ;  when  more  than  two  were  represented, 
it  was  named  a  symposium. 

Definition  of  Dialogue.—  The  dialogue  is  defined  as  a  brief 
prose  composition  with  unity  of  theme,  wherein  the  thought- 
development  is  carried  on  by  the  conversation  of  two  per- 
sons. This  method  of  thought-development  satisfied  the  re- 


THE  ESSAY 

quirements  of  philosophical  discussion ;  allowing  scope  for  de- 
bate and  introducing  the  disputants  personally  to  the  reader. 
Hence,  in  Greek  essays  upon  philosophy  we  are  introduced  to 
the  famous  teachers  of  the  Academy  and  the  Lyceum,  Socra- 
tes, Plato,  Aristotle,  Xenocrates,  Polemo.  The  dialogue  is 
sometimes  called  the  Socratic  method ;  as  it  was  his  favorite 
method  of  imparting  knowledge.  Cicero,  who  was  a  member 
of  the  Greek  Academy,  writes :  "  The  Academy  employs  the 
dialogue  merely  to  compare  together  different  opinions,  to  see 
what  may  be  advanced  on  either  side,  and  to  leave  one's  listen- 
ers free  in  forming  their  judgments."  This  was  precisely  its 
purpose  in  the  philosophical  essay  of  the  Greeks.  It  was  not 
introduced  for  the  purpose  of  character  study,  as  we  find  it  in 
the  drama.  The  revelation  of  character  was  never  the  primary 
purpose  of  the  essayist.  The  subject  treated,  not  the  persons 
treating  it,  absorbed  his  attention.  If  the  names  of  the  de- 
baters were  introduced,  it  was  done  simply  to  engage  the  at- 
tention of  the  readers  and  satisfy  the  demands  of  discussion. 
On  this  point  Aristotle  observes  :  "  Whosoever  aims  at  instruct- 
ing men,  should  engage  their  attention  in  his  subject  by  his 
manner  of  treatment."  Hence,  the  Greek  use  of  the  dialogue 
in  the  unattractive  prose  of  philosophy.  It  enlivened  the  work, 
redeeming  to  some  extent  the  barrenness  of  speculation. 

Kinds  of  Dialogue. —  In  the  form  of  dialogue  the  ancient  phil- 
osophers wrote  most  of  the  essays  handed  down  to  us.  The 
dialogue  as  found  in  these  essays,  is  conducted  in  two  ways : 
first,  as  direct  conversation,  where  none  but  the  speakers  ap- 
pear;  the  author  himself  remaining  in  the  background.  This 
is  the  method  of  Plato.  Secondly,  the  dialogue  reported  with 
such  modifications  and  comments  as  will  give  the  author  a 
prominent  place  in  the  essay.  This  is  the  method  of  Aristotle 
which  Cicero  learned  in  the  Academy,  adopted  in  his  work,  and 
which  he  praises  as  the  most  satisfactory  way  of  treating  phil- 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

osophy.  Plato  intended  the  dialogue  for  entertainment  and  in- 
struction. While  he  made  no  attempt  to  depict  characters  as 
they  were  drawn  by  Aeschylus  or  Sophocles  there  was  a  studied 
attempt  in  all  his  essays  to  make  the  speakers  consistent  and  in 
a  measure  true  to  life.  Hence,  they  were  exhibited  as  polite  in 
conversation,  graceful  in  manner  and  passionate  in  debate. 

The  Greek  Essay. —  Among  the  philosophical  essays  of 
Greece  the  dialogues  of  Plato  and  Aristotle  hold  first  rank; 
they  were  models  for  Greek  and  Latin  writers ;  and  in  English 
literature  they  have  many  imitators.  Dr.  Blair  writes  of 
Plato :  "  In  his  dialogues  the  scenery  and  circumstances  are 
beautifully  painted ;  the  conversation  is  supported  with  much 
dramatic  coloring,  for  Plato  was  an  idealist;  he  possessed  the 
poetic  as  well  as  the  philosophic  temper ;  his  imagination  was 
quite  as  active  as  his  intellect ;  as  we  may  see  in  Phaedo  and 
the  Republic.  Philosophy  did  not  furnish  the  desired  scope 
for  his  luxuriant  imagination ;  hence,  Plato  had  recourse  to  al- 
legory  and  fiction." 

The  Dialogue-Essay  in  English  Literature. —  In  English 
literature  Bishop  Berkeley  imitated  Plato.  The  philosophical 
essays  of  Berkeley  written  in  the  form  of  dialogue  are  unriv- 
alled imitations  of  the  Greek  master.  One  point  of  difference : 
Berkeley  cares  less  for  the  pictorial  setting  and  environment  of 
his  characters ;  whereas,  Plato  cared  as  much  for  scenery  as  a 
dramatist.  David  Hume,  like  Bishop  'Berkeley,  made  use  of 
Plato  as  a  model.  A  collection  of  essays  called  "  Dialogues  on 
Natural  Religion,"  were  written  by  Hume  in  imitation  of 
Plato.  Hume  is  unquestionably  one  of  the  finest  writers  of 
English  prose ;  but  in  the  management  of  the  dialogue  he  lacks 
the  imaginative  power  of  Plato.  However,  his  style,  less  florid 
and  figurative,  seems  to  be  better  adapted  to  the  requirements 
of  philosophical  discussion.  Mallock,  Lilly,  Mivart  and  Ward 


THE  ESSAY 

are  modern  writers  who  occasionally  use  the  form  of  dialogue 
in  essays  on  philosophical  subjects.  But  this  method  is  no 
longer  popular;  the  dialogue  and  the  philosophical  theme  so 
treated  are  rapidly  passing  from  the  realm  of  the  essay  to  the 
novel  with  a  purpose.  Aristotle's  method  of  putting  the  author 
in  the  foreground  together  with  the  leaders  of  the  dialogue,  was 
imitated  by  Lucian  and  Cicero,  but  he  has  no  imitators  in  Eng- 
lish literature.  The  dialogues  of  Lucian  are  not  philosophy ; 
they  are  rather  satirical  essays  on  the  pedantry  of  philosophy ; 
they  also  ridicule  the  Pagan  gods ;  they  are  gay  and  humorous ; 
full  of  pleasantry  —  after  the  fashion  of  Voltaire.  They  add 
the  comments  of  the  author  to  the  dialogue  and  manage  to 
keep  Lucian  in  the  foreground,  just  as  Aristotle  had  previously 
done.  Cicero  is  the  only  distinguished  writer  in  philosophy, 
who  adopted  the  method  of  Aristotle.  Of  his  method  Cardinal 
Newman  writes  as  follows :  "  A  peculiarity  of  Cicero's  phil- 
osophical discussions  is  the  form  of  dialogue  in  which  most  of 
them  are  conveyed  —  the  method  followed  by  Aristotle.  Cice- 
ro gained  great  advantages  by  adopting  this  method ;  in  contro- 
verted questions  he  was  not  obliged  to  discover  his  own  views ; 
he  could  detail  opposing  arguments  clearly;  he  could  add  his 
own  views  and  comments  throughout  the  essay ;  he  carried  the 
reader  on  by  short  stages  and  easy  journeys.  The  dignity  of 
his  speakers,  their  mutual  courtesy ;  the  eloquence  displayed  on 
both  sides,  the  clearness  and  terseness  of  the  style  throw  a  pe- 
culiar charm  around  his  philosophical  essays." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
THE  ESSAY  (CONTINUED) 

The  Symposium. —  The  symposium  was  a  Greek  essay  in 
which  three  or  more  persons  carried  on  a  spirited  conversation. 
It  contained  more  life  and  movement  than  the  dialogue,  owing 
to  the  number  of  speakers  engaged.  All  kinds  of  themes  were 
discussed,  as  they  are  now  discussed  in  the  popular  magazine. 

Origin. —  Xenophon  wrote  the  first  symposium  in  Greek. 
This  essay  has  come  down  to  us :  it  is  called  "  The  Banquet." 
In  it  we  are  introduced  to  Socrates  and  a  party  of  disputants 
around  a  banquet  table.  The  Greek  symposium,  unlike  the 
Greek  dialogue,  offered  several  topics  for  discussion,  thereby 
adding  variety  of  theme  to  variety  of  speakers.  Plato  em- 
ployed the  symposium  in  philosophy,  but  his  favorite  form  of 
the  essay  was  the  dialogue.  In  one  example  he  introduces  the 
pupils  and  the  work  of  the  Academy.  The  symposium  was  a 
popular  form  of  Greek  and  Latin  literature  during  the  long 
struggle  between  rival  schools  of  philosophy  and  between 
Christanity  and  Paganism.  Apologists  and  sophists  employed 
it.  It  was  intended  to  appeal  to  the  people,  like  a  certain  class 
of  novels  written  for  purposes  of  controversy.  Cardinal  New- 
man introduced  the  symposium  into  the  Oxford  controversy. 
A  collection  of  essays  written  by  him  is  called  "  The  Story  of 
a  Convert."  This  work  is  a  story  only  in  name;  it  contains 
neither  plot  nor  character-drawing.  It  is  the  Greek  symposium 
copied  from  Xenophon  and  Plato,  and  found  to  be  a  successful 
method  of  defending  his  position.  In  the  department  of  fiction 

160 


THE  ESSAY 

George  Eliot's  "  Scenes  from  a  Clerical  Life  "  is  a  collection  of 
essays  in  which  clerical  characters  are  grouped  after  the  fashion 
of  the  Greek  symposium ;  there  is  no  plot  or  character-drawing, 
but  the  grouping  is  so  arranged  as  to  throw  considerable  light 
upon  clerical  life  in  the  Church  of  England.  The  symposium 
in  fiction  was  the  forerunner  of  the  short  story  which  has  now 
attained  such  great  popularity. 

Use  in  Criticism. —  In  English  criticism  there  is  one  notable 
example  of  the  symposium  —  the  first  one  appearing  in  Eng- 
lish literature ;  it  was  written  by  John  Dryden  and  published  in 
1668.  It  is  called  an  essay  on  dramatic  poesy,  and  deals  at 
considerable  length  with  the  principles  of  dramatic  art.  This 
symposium  is  remembered  rather  on  account  of  the  novel  form 
than  the  thought ;  although  his  justification  of  rhyme  in  pref- 
erence to  blank  verse  in  the  drama  was  a  new  departure.  Dry- 
den  contended  that  rhyme  was  quite  as  natural  in  the  drama  as 
blank  verse  and  that  it  gave  a  necessary  check  to  the  imagina- 
tion. Dryden  introduces  five  speakers  and  varies  the  themes 
as  the  essay  develops,  in  imitation  of  th'e  Greeks. 

The  Modern  Symposium. —  The  modern  symposium  differs 
from  the  Greek  model  in  three  ways :  first,  it  deals  with  a  single 
theme;  secondly,  it  offers  a  fuller  treatment  of  the  subject  and 
usually  engages  more  persons  in  the  discussion ;  thirdly,  in- 
stead of  being  published  as  a  single  essay  wherein  the  thought- 
development  is  carried  on  by  conversation,  the  modern  sym- 
posium is  a  small  collection  of  essays  printed  together,  linked  to 
a  single  theme,  and  presenting  that  theme  from  various  points 
of  view.  The  symposium  is  a  leading  feature  of  all  high-class 
periodicals,  whether  newspapers  or  magazines.  The  quarterly 
magazines  alone  are  excepted  from  the  general  rule.  All  the 
great  problems  of  modern  life  are  discussed  in  this  manner,  and 
the  advantage  is  obvious.  Two  magazines  make  a  specialty  of 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

the  symposium:  the  Nineteenth  Century  (British)  and  the 
North  American  Review.  Almost  every  issue  contains  a  sym- 
posium on  some  public  question. 

The  Eulogium. —  The  fourth  class  of  Greek  essays  received 
the  name  of  eulogium.  Eulogistic  literature  in  prose  took  first 
the  form  of  the  essay ;  afterwards  it  was  about  equally  divided 
between  the  essay  and  the  department  of  oratory.  The  eulogy 
was  an  essay  written  in  praise  of  some  important  personage. 
It  applied  equally  to  the  living  and  the  dead.  It  was  an  out- 
growth of  hero-worship  which  found  expression  in  Homer, 
Hesiod,  and  the  epic-cycle  long  before  the  advent  of  prose  com- 
position. Because  of  the  human  theme,  the  eulogy  made  a 
wider  and  stronger  appeal  than  any  other  class  of  essay.  It 
had  a  place  in  the  miscellaneous  writings  of  all  Greek  authors 
of  note,  and  it  is  found  today  in  every  class  of  periodical  liter- 
ature. Its  existence  is  a  proof  that  the  world  honors  the  il- 
lustrious living  and  dead  in  all  countries  and  in  every  age. 

Origin.— The  earliest  eulogy  found  in  Greek  literature  was 
written  by  Xenophon  in  praise  of  a  Spartan  king.  Xenophon 
summarizes  the  virtues  of  his  royal  hero,  emphasizing  two  in 
particular  —  his  piety  and  strict  discipline.  Xenophon  wrote 
another  eulogy  called  "  The  Recollections  of  Socrates.  It  is 
the  work  of  an  admiring  and  affectionate  disciple.  In  both  es- 
says the  Greek  writer  idealized  his  subject;  praise  is  bestowed 
without  discrimination.  Among  ancient  writers  the  most  dis- 
tinguished author  of  eulogies,  outside  the  field  of  oratory,  was 
Plutarch.  One  hundred  and  ten  essays  written  by  Plutarch  are 
preserved ;  of  these  forty-six  are  eulogies.  These  eulogies  deal 
with  celebrated  characters  in  Greek  and  Roman  history;  they 
are  brief  biographies  such  as  are  now  printed  in  Quarterly  Re- 
views. Quintilian  constantly  refers  to  Plutarch  as  ff  Laudator 
temporis  acti."  The  aim  of  Plutarch  was  to  glorify  and  popu- 


THE  ESSAY  ,63 

larize  the  heroes  of  the  past.  Hence  he  dwells  continually  upon 
the  wonderful  deeds  and  virtues  of  historic  idols.  His  page 
glorifies  both  Greek  and  Roman.  His  essays  are  compared  with 
those  of  Macaulay :  in  both  there  is  the  sweeping  assertion ;  the 
startling  paradox;  the  long  pompous  sentence.  Like  Macau- 
lay,  though  often  inaccurate,  he  had  a  vast  range  of  informa- 
tion. These  eulogies  were  collected  and  published  as  "  Plu- 
tarch's Lives."  Besides  the  eulogies,  there  are  nine  examples 
of  the  symposium  and  seventeen  dialogues  among  the  essays  of 
Plutarch. 

In  English.—  In  English  literature,  Dr.  Johnson  imitated 
Plutarch.  He  wrote  a  large  number  of  essays  which  were 
used  as  prefaces  in  an  edition  of  the  English  Poets.  These  es- 
says eulogized  the  poets  of  England,  each  according  to  his 
merit;  they  were  biographical  and  critical.  Unlike  Plutarch, 
Johnson  mingled  praise  and  blame,  as  the  subject  required ;  and 
Johnson's  fame  rests  upon  this  essay  work  in  biographical 
criticism,  not  upon  his  dramas  or  his<^itcionax^.  The  essays 
were  afterward  collected  and  published  as  "  Lives  of  the 
Poets."  The  method  of  Johnson  was  adopted  by  contempo- 
rary essayists ;  he  divided  the  essay  into  two  parts  giving  about 
equal  space  to  biographical  data  and  to  criticism.  Macaulay 
imitated  him  in  the  essay  on  Milton  —  the  first  that  Tie  pub- 
lished  and  the  one  that  made  his  reputation.  Reviewers  of  any 
note  since  the  time  of  Johnson  follow  his  method  in  their 
magazine  articles.  Johnson  gave  the  largest  space  to  the  mer- 
its and  virtues  of  a  writer ;  he  placed  the  defects  and  faults  in 
the  background ;  and  because  the  note  of  praise  was  the  pre- 
dominant note,  his  essays  on  English  authors  must  be  classified 
as  eulogies.  Eulogistic  literature  finds  a  place  in  all  English 
magazines  —  the  great  channels  of  essay-publication. 

Modern  Use.— Some  reasons  are  obvious  for  the  surprising 
growth  of  eulogistic  literature  in  the  form  of  the  essay.     This 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

growth  is  due  in  a  measure  to  the  growth  of  periodicals  and 
magazines.  It  follows  the  law  of  supply  and  demand.  Topics 
that  appeal  to  the  people  are  essential  to  the  success  of  any  pub- 
lication. Hence,  the  mass  of  eulogies  on  persons  who  are,  or 
who  have  been  popular  idols ;  they  satisfy  the  demands  of  the 
multitude.  A  second  reason  —  the  multiplication  of  themes. 
The  educational  and  moral  advantages  of  democracy,  develop- 
ing individual  life,  character  and  .personality,  multiply  themes 
suitable  to  the  eulogy.  A  third  reason :  the  prevailing  modern 
tendency  to  know  the  secrets  of  extraordinary  success  in  every 
department  of  human  endeavor;  hence,  the  general  desire  to 
draw  near  to  great  lives  and  pluck  out  the  heart  of  their  mys- 
tery. "  It  is,"  says  Emerson,  "  the  old  story  of  the  moth  and 
the  flame  —  the  riddle  of  the  human  sphinx." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
THE  ESSAY  (CONTINUED) 

The  Memoir. —  Besides  the  monograph,  the  dialogue,  the 
symposium  and  the  eulogy,  there  is  a  class  of  essays  in  ancient 
and  modern  literature  called  memoirs. 

Meaning  of  the  Word. —  The  term  memoir  in  literature  has 
various  meanings  and  is  applied  to  different  kinds,  of  literary 
work.  There  are  two  distinct  meanings  attached  to  the  word. 
First,  it  is  used  as  a  synonym  for  memoranda  or  notes  taken 
by  a  writer  in  study,  travel,  observation  ;  miscellaneous  items  on 
any  subject,  without  unity  or  order.  For  example,  the  note- 
book or  scrap-book  of  an  author.  Secondly,  it  is  defined  as  an 
essay  relating  to  some  subject  within  the  writer's  memory  — 
some  subject  personally  known  to  the  author. 

As  an  Essay^ As  an  essay,  the  memoir  embraces  three  kinds 
of  subjects.  First,  it  deals  with  events  in  the  life  of  some  per- 
son intimately  known  to  the  author ;  in  which  case,  it  is  classi- 
fied as  biography.  For  example,  the  Memorabilia  of  Xeno- 
phon  dealing  with  events  in  the  life  of  Socrates,  with  whom 
Xenophon  as  a  pupil  was  intimately  acquainted.  An  example 
in  modern  literature:  Talleyrand's  memoirs  dealing  with  the 
life  of  Napoleon.  Secondly,  the  memoir  as  an  essay  treating 
events  in  the  author's  own  life.  The  memoir  is  then  classified 
as  autobiography.  For  example,  the  Apology  of  Socrates  is 
an  essay  in  defence  of  his  conduct :  the  Apologia  of  Newman 
reviewing  religious  changes  in  his  own  life,  is  a  collection  of 
essays  autobiographical  in  character.  The  memoirs  of  Gibbon 

165 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

the  historian,  Hume  the  philosopher,  and  Dryden  the  critic, 
belong  to  the  same  class.  Thirdly,  the  memoir  is  an  essay  in 
natural  history,  dealing  with  the  life  of  some  plant  or  animal. 
It  does  not  reveal  the  profound  research  or  enlarged  informa- 
tion expected  in  the  monograph.  It  is  rather  material  for 
scientific  investigation  than  the  result  of  careful  scholarship. 
For  example,  the  essays  of  Aiidubon  on  the  birds  of  America, 
collected  in  five  volumes  and  published  as  memoirs  in  ornithol- 
ogy. Darwin's  Memoirs  on  Orchids  and  Climbing  Plants. 
Memoirs  of  John  Burroughs  on  the  characteristics  of  Amer- 
ican animals.  This  use  of  the  memoir  was  adopted  from  the 
French,  who  apply  it  to  any  essay  or  collection  of  essays  on 
animal  or  plant  life.  When  animal  or  plant  life  was  treated 
in  a  fictitious  manner  by  ancient  writers,  or  events  narrated 
as  if  occurring  among  human  beings,  and  intended  to  enforce 
some  lesson,  then  the  memoir  was  called  an  apologue.  An 
apologue  among  the  Greeks  took  the  form  of  prose.  For  ex- 
ample, the  essays  of  yEsop  commonly  known  as  fables.  In 
English  literature  it  is  found  in  verse  and  prose :  for  example, 
the  Hind  and  Panther ;  the  story  of  Gulliver. 

Basis  of  the  Memoir. —  Throughout  its  various  applications, 
the  memoir  is  based  upon  some  reminiscences  or  recollections  of 
the  author.  It  is  always  written  from  the  point  of  view  of  per- 
sonal contact  or  experience. 

As  Biography. — The  difference  between  memoirs  and  regular 
biography :  Regular  biography  deals  with  an  individual  life  in 
a  systematic,  consecutive  and  complete  manner;  whereas  me- 
moirs are  at  best  but  fragments,  glimpses  or  partial  views  of 
the  individual  life.  Hence  memoirs  bear  the  same  relation  to 
biography  proper  as  a  kaleidoscope  does  to  a  picture.  Because 
the  themes  are.  fragmentary  and  disconnected,  memoirs  always 
take  the  form  of  essays.  The  plural,  memoirs,  is  used  in  pref- 


THE  ESS  A}' 

erence  to  the  singular,  because  these  essays  are  collected  and 
found  iw  volume  form. 

Literary  Value. —  Memoirs  are  a  species  of  prose.  In  com- 
position they  admit  of  the  same  freedom  of  treatment  as  a 
letter.  The  author  has  the  fullest  liberty  in  the  matter  of  se- 
lecting topics,  and  he  may  ramble  at  will ;  he  usually  casts  aside 
the  dignity  of  serious  prose,  and  fills  his  page  with  anecdote, 
story,  sketch,  entertaining  trifles  of  all  kinds.  But  one  quality 
is  demanded  —  the  composition  should  be  written  in  a  lively 
style  and  convey  some  knowledge  worth  acquiring.  French 
writers  excel  in  this  class  of  work.  Memoirs  are  more  popular 
in  France  than  in  any  other  country.  The  English  people,  ow- 
ing to  national  temperament,  demand  a  more  serious  kind  of 
prose.  One  class  of  memoir,  called  the  apologue,  has  been  pop- 
ular in  England,  owing  to  the  national  love  for  moral  allegory. 
The  apologue  is  fictitious  biography  in  essay-form,  enforcing 
some  moral  lesson. 

Tracts  and  Pamphlets. —  English  writers  employ  all  the 
classes  of  essay  found  in  Greek  literature,  using  the  same  titles 
and  copying  closely  the  Greek  models.  They  have  added  cer- 
tain kinds  of  essay-writing  which  came  into  existence  with  the 
art  of  printing.  Of  these  the  pamphlet  is  first  in  the  order  of 
time.  The  pamphlet  has  always  been  a  popular  essay  in  Eng- 
land. Disraeli  wrote :  "  Wherever  pamphlets  abound,  there 
is  freedom;  "and  therefore  the  English  have  been  a  nation  of 
pamphleteers.  The  pamphlet  is  defined  as  a  brief,  controver- 
sial essay  — a  treatise  in  miniature.  It  deals  with  problems  of 
current  interest,  usually  with  political  and  religious  matters. 

A  Special  Pleader.—  The  pamphlet  is  a  special  pleader,  always 
partisan  in  tone.  In  supporting  a  creed  or  party,  it  may  be  de- 
scriptive, satirical,  didactic ;  but  it  is  always  controversial.  It 
is  a  record  of  popular  feeling  and  its  history  represents  the 


ANALYSIS  OP  PROSE-FORMS 

changeful  currents  of  public  opinion,  from  the  time  that  print- 
ing began  in  England. 

Synonyms. —  Sometimes  the  pamphlet  was  called  a  tract ;  the 
terms  are  synonymous  now  and  apply  to  the  same  kind  of  es- 
say. For  example,  the  Tracts  of  Newman  and  Pusey  have  the 
same  significance  as  pamphlets.  Originally,  however,  the  pam- 
phlet was  more  elaborate  and  had  a  wider  circulation. 

History  of  Tracts  and  Pamphlets. —  The  history  of  tracts 
and  pamphlets  is  the  most  interesting  chapter  in  the  literary  his- 
tory of  England.  It  is  the  record  of  great  national  debates 
carried  on  by  the  most  gifted  literary  men,  with  all  the  bitter- 
ness and  hostility  the  Saxon  can  command.  The  first  national 
debate  in  England  arose  over  the  subject  of  religion.  In  the 
fourteenth  century  the  Lollard  doctrines  and  those  of  Wick- 
liffe  were  warmly  debated.  Wickliffe  and  the  Lollards  sharp- 
ened the  British  appetite  for  pamphlets.  Next  came  the  Hu- 
manist movement,  multiplying  this  class  of  essay  in  England. 
Humanism  dated  from  Petrarch  who  dug  up  the  ancient  Latin 
and  Greek  classics  and  started  a  revival  of  learning.  Human- 
ism reversed  the  medieval  ideals,  making  the  most  of  this 
world  by  centering  thought  upon  man  and  nature  and  thus 
placing  the  arts  and  sciences  first  in  the  curriculum  of  study.  A 
craze  for  the  new  gospel  swept  over  Europe,  England  included ; 
the  evangelists  of  resurgent  paganism  were  the  tract  and 
pamphlet.  Universities  poured  forth  an  endless  stream  of  these 
essays.  In  the  publications  of  Caxton  for  1490,  tracts  and 
pamphlets  have  a  large  place ;  they  were  the  source  of  popular 
instruction  before  magazines  and  newspapers  came  into  exis- 
tence. Among  the  Humanists  of  England,  Sir  Thomas  More 
was  the  most  illustrious  pioneer.  The  period  of  his  life  ex- 
tending from  1478  to  1535,  witnessed  the  hardest  struggles  of 
the  New  Learning  in  England.  More's  first  pamphlet,  shortly 


THE  ESSAY  ^ 

after  leaving  Oxford,  was  an  attempt  to  reconcile  the  New 
Learning  with  the  Did.  This  pamphlet  called  "Ad  Dorpium  " 
was  widely  circulated  and  helped  to  break  down  monastic  prej- 
udice against  the  revivalists  of  the  ancient  classics,  and  es- 
pecially against  the  sciences.  More  lamented  the  treatment  of 
Roger  Bacon  and  pleaded  for  a  liberal  attitude  toward 
the  sciences.  More  did  not  antagonize  the  ancient  religion,  but 
he  did  believe  that  the  time  spent  by  the  Schoolmen  in  barren 
speculation  could  be  more  profitably  employed  in  studying  the 
arts  and  sciences.  English  reformers  made  use  of  tracts  and 
pamphlets.  In  their  attacks  upon  the  English  Church  they  in- 
variably employed  this  kind  of  essay.  Erasmus,  the  best  liter- 
ary critic  of  the  time,  regretted  these  theological  quarrels  on 
account  of  their  evil  effects  upon  literature.  The  best  talent  of 
England  was  wasted,  so  he  thought,  upon  vile,  unworthy  pro- 
ductions. The  tract  and  pamphlet  o-f  the  Reformation  were 
too  hastily  prepared  to  have  literary  merit.  In  form  and  in 
subject-matter  they  were  cheap,  vulgar,  degrading  —  a  filthy 
channel  of  abuse  and  calumniation,  exhausting  the  vocabulary 
of  hate  and  scurrility.  Men  who  might  have  made  lasting 
contributions  to  literature  spent  their  days  on  this  ephemeral 
work  of  religious  controversy. 

The  Puritan  Tract.—  The  Reformation  reached  a  climax  in 
Puritanism.  The  best  specimens  of  puritan  literature  are  the 
"  Mar-Prelate  Tracts  "  published  in  1589;  and  the  "  Root  and 
Branch  Pamphlets  "  published  in  1640.  These  puritan  tracts 
and  pamphlets  were  directed  against  the  Church  of  England ; 
and  their  aim  was  to  uproot  the  idea  of  a  religious  hierarchy. 
Hence,  the  title  "  Root  and  Branch  Pamphlets/'  The  Mar- 
Prelate  tracts  originated  in  a  religious  persecution  of  the  Puri- 
tans by  Whitgift,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  acted  under 
orders  from  Queen  Elizabeth.  The  Puritans  refused  to  sub- 
scribe to  those  doctrines  of  the  English  Church  maintaining  a 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

hierarchy.  In  the  Mar-Prelate  tracts  the  bishops  and  clergy 
were  bitterly  attacked.  Martin  Mar-Prelate  contributed  forty 
numbers  to  these  tracts.  Other  writers  like  Penry,  Throgmar- 
tin,  Udal,  swelled  the  list,  all  of  which  were  named  after  Martin 
Mar-Prelate.  The  Mar-Prelate  Tracts  provoked  replies,  the 
most  brilliant  of  which  were  written  by  Thomas  Nash  —  a 
pamphleteer  whose  chief  weapon  was  satire.  Nash  wrote  five 
pamphlets  in  reply,  after  the  style  of  Dean  Swift.  "A  Month's 
Mind  for  Pious  Martin,"  was  the  most  popular  of  these.  The 
Church  of  England  employed  the  pamphlet  as  effectively  as  the 
Puritans.  But  notwithstanding  an  increase  in  volume,  tracts 
and  pamphlets  at  the  close  of  the  i6th  and  during  the  I7th  cen- 
tury were  a  worthless  addition  to  literature. 

Essays  of  Milton.—  The  Mar-Prelate  Tracts  were  followed 
by  the  "  Root  and  Branch  Pamphlets."  John  Milton  was  the 
chief  contributor;  he  headed  the  list  with  a  dozen  essays 
against  Prelacy.  These  essays  are  unworthy  of  the  author  of 
Paradise  Lost.  Outside  of  religious  controversy,  Milton  wrote 
prose  with  some  sanity  and  merit ;  his  essays  on  Education  and 
the  Liberty  of  the  Press  are  preserved  from  a  mass  of  mediocre 
prose.  The  great  author  passes  this  criticism  on  his  own  ef- 
forts :  "  I  reluctantly  left  the  calm  and  pleasing  fields  of  litera- 
ture, fed  with  cheerful  and  confident  thoughts,  in  order  to  em- 
bark in  a  troubled  sea  of  noises  and  hoarse  disputes."  During 
Milton's  lifetime  the  publication  of  tracts  and  pamphlets  was 
the  chief  literary  industry.  Religious  and  political  quarrels 
brought  on  the  Revolution.  From  1640  to  1662,  while  the 
Revolution  was  in  progress,  more  than  twenty  thousand  tracts 
and  pamphlets  were  circulated;  they  are  preserved,  many  of 
them,  in  the  British  Museum  —  a  literary  monument  to  the 
fiercest  struggle  on  English  soil.  Two  names  deserve  mention, 
besides  that  of  Milton :  Lord  Halifax,  a  political  pamphleteer, 
three  volumes  of  whose  essays  are  preserved ;  and  Daniel 


THE  ESSAY  ,~, 

Defoe,  the  author  of  Robinson  Crusoe,  who  was  sent  to  the 
pillory  in  1704  for  publishing  religions  tracts. 

Pamphlets  of  the  i8th  Century.— I n  the  i8th  century  the 
pamphlet  underwent  a  wholesome  change.  While  still  con- 
troversial in  character,  it  was  written  with  more  skill  and  taste. 
In  the  hands  of  Addison,  Steele,  Burke  and  Atterbury,  this 
kind  of  essay  became  as  polished  and  refined  as  any  other  class 
of  literature.  Addison  expended  as  much  time  and  care  upon 
his  political  pamphlets  written  in  defense  of  the  Government, 
as  he  did  upon  essays  for  the  Spectator.  The  most  valued 
writings  of  Edmund  Burke  are  found  in  pamphlet  form.  Two 
political  events  in  the  i8th  century  multiplied  the  pamphlet. 
The  War  of  the  Spanish  Succession  and  the  French  Revolu- 
tion. In  the  former  case  Addison,  Steele  and  Dean  Swift 
were  the  distinguished  pamphleteers;  in  the  latter,  Edmund 
Burke.  Dean  Swift  as  a  pamphleteer  had  no  equal  among 
contemporary  writers.  His  qualifications  for  controversy  in- 
cluded a  fund  of  wit  and  humor,  unrivalled  satire,  a  strong 
party  bias,  an  unlimited  vocabulary  of  abuse.  The  political 
pamphlets  which  made  his  reputation  are  four  in  number : 
'  The  Conduct  of  the  Allies  " —  a  pamphlet  dealing  with  the 
War  of  the  Spanish  Succession.  Bolingbroke  admitted  that 
the  circulation  of  this  pamphlet  kept  the  \Vhig  party  in  power. 
The  other  three  are :  "  The  Barrier  Treaty ;  "  "  Thoughts  on 
Public  Affairs;"  "The  Public  Spirit  of  the  Whigs."  Dean 
Swift  spent  eleven  years  (1710-1721)  writing  political  tracts 
and  pamphlets,  and  contributing  political  essays  to  the  WThig 
Examiner,  the  organ  of  his  favorite  party.  He  also  contrib- 
uted several  essays  to  the  Tatler  and  the  Spectator.  A  con- 
temporary of  Addison  and  Steele,  Dean  Swift  lacked  their 
grace  and  finish ;  his  style  was  that  of  the  Puritan.  According 
to  Addison,  he  wielded  his  pen  as  he  would  a  club.  'Outside 
the  domain  of  politics,  Dean  Swift  left  some  fine  specimens  of 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

the  pamphlet.  Two  essays,  humorous  and  satirical,  are  worthy 
of  mention :  "  A  modest  proposal  for  preventing  the  children 
of  poor  people  in  Ireland  from  being  a  burden  to  their  parents." 
In  this  essay  the  proposal  was  to  fatten  and  eat  the  surplus 
children.  Swift's  masterpiece  of  satire,  outside  of  politics,  is 
the  essay  called  "  An  Argument  Against  Abolishing  Christ;, 
anity." 

,\T  Essays  of  Atterbury.—  While  Dean  Swift  defended  'the 
Whig  party,  Atterbury  wrote  against  the  Whigs,  and,  like 
Swift,  employed  the  essay  in  pamphlet  form.  Atterbury  was 
a  bishop,  the  leader  of  the  High  Church  party,  and  next  to 
x  Swift  the  ablest  pamphleteer  of  the  time.  According  to  Swift, 
Atterbury  by  his  writings,  set  everything  on  fire.  These 
essayists  crossed  swords ;  and  in  a  work  called  "  The  Battle 


of  the  Books,"   Swift  administered  a  crushing  blow  to  his 
rival.     Years  afterward,  he  exclaimed  : 
V    genius  I  had  when  I  wrote  that  book." 


/|     rival.     Years  afterward,  he  exclaimed  :     "  Great  God !  what  a 
\j    genius  I 


Essays  of  Burke.—  The  French  Revolution,  like  the  Spanish 
Succession,  engaged  the  best  writers  and  increased  the  volumes 
of  tracts  and  pamphlets.  The  Satanic  School  of  which  Byron 
and  Shelley  were  the  leaders,  sang  the  praises  of  the  Revolu- 
tion in  English  verse ;  Shelley,  had  he  the  power,  would 
have  reproduced  in  England  the  anarchy  that  disgraced 
France  in  1793.  In  prose  as  well  as  verse,  the  merits  of  the 
Revolution  were  discussed  by  Englishmen.  It  was  found 
necessary  to  stem  the  tide  of  infidelity  and  anarchy  setting 
toward  England;  and  Edmund  Burke,  like  Dean  Swift,  was 
the  man  for  the  hour.  He  wrote  two  t  pamphlets :  the  first 
one  published  in  1756  was  called  a  "Vindication  of  Natural 
Society."  It  was  a  clever  satire  aimed  at  Bolingbroke  and  the 
deistic  School.  In  this  pamphlet  Burke  argued  that  civilized 
society  ought  to  be  abolished  in  favor  of  savagery  or  the 


THE  ESSAY 

purely  natural  state,  because  civilization  is  attended  by  so 
many  abuses,  miseries,  crimes.  These  sarrte  reasons  were 
urged  against  Christianity  by  the  Deistic  School  of  France 
and  England.  Burke  saw  that  the  rationalism  which  would 
overthrow  revealed  religion,  was  equally  calculated  to  under- 
mine political  government.  He  foretold  the  political  revo- 
lution of  '93  fully  twenty  years  before  it  occurred.  The  same 
reasons  which  justified  anarchy  in  religious  society,  justified 
anarchy  in  political  and  civilized  society.  The  pamphlet  was 
meant  to  be  a  reduction  to  an  absurdity  of  atheistic  principles. 
In  1790  Burke  wrote  a  second  pamphlet  called  "  Reflections 
on  the  Revolution  in  France/'  Like  the  first  one,  it  attacked 
atheism ;  and  added  a  condemnation  of  the  French  Revolution. 
It  established  the  fame  of  Bwfte  in  England  and  on  the  Con-^ 

/  ^^^^ 

tinent.     Diderot,    replying,     said :     "  In    spite    of    Edmund 
Burke,  belief  in  God  and  submission  to  Kings  will  be  at  an 
end  in  a  few  years."     Eleven  editions  of  this  pamphlet  were  ^ 
sold  during  the  first  year  of  its  publication.     It  was  followed 
by  another  pamphlet  called,  "An  Appeal   from  the  New  to// 
the  Old   Whigs."     This  was   a  vindication  of  his   criticism  ^ 
on  the  French  Revolution.     He  replied  to  Diderot  and  Tom;  , 
Paine.     Paine  had  written  the  "  Rights  of  Man  "  -  a  pam- 
phlet  justifying  the   French    Revolution   and   attacking   Ed- 
mund Burke.     A  War  of  Pamphlets  followed,  with  the  result 
that  anarchy   and   infidelity,   while  possessing  many   friends 
among  Englishmen,  gained  no  considerable  power  in  England. 

Tracts  and  Pamphlets  of  the  igth  Century. —  The  Tractarian 
Movement,  sometimes  called  the  Oxford  Movement,  derives 
its  name  from  the  circulation  of  tracts  and  pamphlets.  The 
Tractarians,  like  the  Puritans  aimed  at  a  religious  reformation 
and  employed  this  kind  of  essay  as  the  Puritans  had  done  in 
the  days  of  Milton.  Three  literary  men  of  note  were  con- 
nected with  the  movement:  Keble,  Pusey  and  Newman. 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

Their  essays  were  called  "  Tracts  for  the  Times."  Of  these 
Keble  wrote  four;  the  remaining  eighty-six  were  written 
by  Pusey  and  Newman.  The  most  famous  essay  of  the  col- 
lection was  Tract  90,  written  by  Newman.  Pusey  wrote  one 
remarkable  pamphlet,  the  "  Eirenicon."  In  this  essay  he  tried 
to  establish  a  basis  of  unity  between  the  Church  of  England 
and  the  Church  of  Rome.  Tract  90  had  a  similar  purpose  — 
to  harmonize  the  39  Articles  with  the  Catholic  Belief.  In  the 
political  as  well  as  the  religous  world  tracts  continue  to  play 
an  important  part.  They  are  circulated  publicly  and  privately 
in  the  interests  of  every  kind  of  reform.  America  imitates 
England  in  the  production  of  these  essays.  Men  prominent 
in  Church  and  State  have  occasion  at  one  time  or  another  to 
write  pamphlets  which  circulate  by  thousands  and  enlighten 
the  public  on  the  problems  and  issues  of  the  day.  Much  of 
the  work  formerly  done  by  tracts  and  pamphlets  printed  in 
isolated  form,  is  now  accomplished  by  the  Leader  in  our 
magazines  and  chief  periodicals. 


CHAPTER    XXV 
THE  ESSAY  (CONTINUED) 

The  Leader. —  Along  with  the  tract  and  pamphlet,  the  age 
of  printing  added  the  Leader  to  the  various  species  of  the 
essay.  The  leader,  as  the  name  indicates,  is  the  most  promi- 
nent essay  in  a  magazine  or  periodical.  In  newspapers  it  is 
called  the  chief  editorial;  in  magazines,  the  leading  article. 
The  Leader  in  magazines  is  the  best  written  essay;  it  is  sup- 
posed to  make  the  widest  appeal  to  the  public ;  it  is  written  by 
men  of  the  finest  literary  culture.  It  is  usually  the  opening 
essay,  though  not  always  so;  and  at  the  present  time  the  title 
of  the  Leader  and  the  name  of  the  author  are  printed  in  heavy 
type  on  the  cover  of  the  magazine. 

Literary  Merit. —  The  magazine  Leader  in  most  cases  is  a 
permanent  contribution  to  literature.  The  essays  of  Steele, 
Addison.  Coleridge,  Carlyle,  Macaulay,  were  first  published 
as  Leaders  in  magazines,  and  afterward  collected  in  their 
present  form. 

Publication  of  Leaders.—  The  printing  of  Leaders  is  as  old 
as  periodical  literature  itself.  When  Steele  published  the  first 
English  magazine  during  the  War  of  the  Spanish  Succession, 
1799,  the  very  first  issue  contained  a  Leader  from  the  pen  of 
the  editor;  and  Addison  or  Steele  contributed  Leaders  as  long 
as  the  "  Tatler  "  and  "  Spectator  "  were  published  by  them. 
The  same  method  was  employed  by  Jeffrey  when  the  Edin- 
burgh Review  was  started.  For  years  he  contributed  the 


I76  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

Leaders,  assisted  occasionally  by  Sydney  Smith;  these  men 
were  succeeded  by  Carlyle,  Christopher  North  and  others  who 
followed  the  same  plan.     Today  the  Quarterly  Reviews  and 
all  magazines  of  any  note  publish  Leaders. 

The  Chief  Editorial.— The  Leader  in  the  newspaper,  like 
the  Leader  in  the  magazine,  is  expected  to  make  a  special  ap- 
peal. But  the  Editorial  work  in  newspapers  cannot  compare 
with ^ literary  work  in  magazines.  There  are  two  exceptions: 
First,  the  Leader  written  in  the  London  Times  which  is  the 
official  organ  of  the  government.  The  chief  editorial  of  the 
London  Times  is  written  by  a  specialist;  it  occupies  two  or 
three  columns  daily;  it  is  understood  to  express  in  a  semi- 
official way  the  policy  of  the  British  Government.  It  is  an 
essay  as  carefully  and  ably  written  as  any  appearing  in  maga- 
zines. In  America,  the  Leader  published  in  the  New  York 
Sun  is  an  essay  of  exceptional  merit.  So,  also,  are  the  Lead- 
ers of  the  New  York  Tribune,  The  Pioneer  Press  and  a 
few  other  newspapers.  But  as  a  rule,  this  essay  is  ephemeral, 
too  hastily  written  for  permanence. 

Subjects  Treated. —  In  magazines,  the  Leader  may  deal  with 
almost  any  theme.  As  a  rule,  however,  these  themes  come 
under  six  heads :  criticism,  biography,  history,  science,  phil- 
osophy, religion.  Such  subjects  are  of  permanent  interest 
and  give  permanence  to  literature.  The  first  Leader  in  maga- 
zine literature  was  an  essay  in  criticism.  The  author  was  a 
self-constituted  judge  of  British  society  —  its  weaknesses  and 
short-comings;  these  themes  were  the  subject-matter  of  the 
essays  of  Steele  and  Addison.  Gradually,  the  field  of  criticism 
widened,  taking  in  history  with  Macaulay,  biography  with 
Carlyle,  politics  with  Burke  and  Jeffrey.  Religion,  philoso- 
phy, science  were  added  by  such  writers  as  Huxley,  Arnold. 
George  Eliot,  Mivart,  Spencer,  Lilly,  Mallock.  The  field 


THE  ESSAY  177 

of  Addison  and  Steele  was  narrow  in  comparison  with  the 
vast  range  of  subject-matter  treated  in  the  modern  essay. 

Popularity.— The  Leader  often  sells  a  magazine  and  creates 
a  demand  for  several  editions.  It  is  the  first  essay  to  be  read 
on  the  editorial  page  of  a  newspaper.  As  might  be  expected, 
it  has  considerable  influence  in  moulding  public  opinion.  Un- 
fortunately, the  personal  element  is  dying  out  of  modern 
journalism  —  that  element  which  the  public  sought  and  re- 
spected in  former  years  —  the  element  of  which  Horace  Gree- 
ley  and  James  Gordon  Bennett  and  Charles  A.  Dana  were  such 
shining  examples.  Instead  of  this,  we  have  the  "  inspired  " 
articles,  the  impersonal  voices  of  wealth  and  creed  and  party. 
Concerning  Horace  Greeley,  it  was  written :  "  The  name  of 
the  editor  was  a  household  word  in  thousands  of  homes,  and 
it  was  with  a  feeling  very  closely  akin  to  that  of  personal 
affection  that  Mr.  Greeley  was  regarded  by  the  readers  of  the 
"  Tribune."  Modern  conditions  seems  to  make  such  a  thing 
an  impossibility  now ;  hence,  the  waning  influence  of  modern 
journalism  upon  the  masses. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 
THE  ESSAY  (CONTINUED) 
REPRESENTATIVE  ESSAYISTS 

Their  Number. —  Any  nation  possessing  an  extensive  litera- 
ture may  claim  several  essayists  among  its  gifted  literary 
men.  Thus  Xenophon,  Plutarch  and  ^Esop  among  the 
Greeks;  Cicero  and  Nepos  among  the  Latins;  Montaigne  in 
France;  Bacon,  Addison,  Macaulay,  Arnold,  in  England.  A 
dozen  or  more  names  might  be  added  to  these,  from  each 
civilized  nation,  ancient  and  modern,  and  the  list  would  not 
be  complete. 

Plutarch  as  an  Essayist. —  Plutarch  was  born  at  Chaeronea, 
Bceotia,  Greece,  about  46  A.  D.  His  famous  essays  are  part 
biographical  and  part  moral.  The  first  class  consists  of  forty- 
six  "  parallel  lives ;  "  in  these  essays  he  devotes  equal  space 
to  Greek  and  Roman  heroes.  The  second  class  consists  of 
essays  moral  and  philosophical,  known  as  "  Opera  Moralia." 
The  following  criticism  is  offered  by  Muller :  "  In  spite  of  all 
exceptions  on  the  score  of  inaccuracy,  want  of  information,  or 
prejudice,  Plutarch's  essays  must  remain  one  of  the  most 
valuable  relics  of  Greek  literature,  not  only  because  they  stand 
in  the  place  of  many  volumes  of  lost  history,  but  also  because 
they  are  written  with  a  graphic  and  dramatic  vivacity,  such  as 
we  find  in  few  biographies,  ancient  or  modern ;  because  they  are 
replete  with  reflections  which,  if  not  profound,  are  always 
moderate  and  sensible ;  and  because  the  author's  aim  through- 

178 


REP  RESENT  A  TIVE  ESS  A  YISTS  ,  -, } 

out  is  to  enforce  the  highest  standard  of  morality  of  which 
a  heathen  was  capable.  He  stands  before  us  as  the  legate,  the 
ambassador,  and  the  orator,  on  behalf  of  those  institutions 
whereby  the  old-time  men  were  rendered  wise  and  virtuous." 
Concerning  the  biographical  essays,  Mr.  Paley  writes  as  fol- 
lows: "These  essays  are  works  of  great  learning  and  re- 
search, and  they  must  have  taken  years  in  their  compilation. 
Plutarch  must  have  had  access  to  a  great  store  of  books,  and 
his  diligence  as  an  historian  cannot  be  questioned,  if  his  accu- 
racy is  in  some  points  impeached."  Concerning  the  Opera 
Moralia,  he  writes :  "  These  consist  of  above  sixty  essays, 
some  of  them  long,  and  many  of  them  rather  difficult;  their 
literary  value  is  greatly  enhanced  by  the  large  number  of  cita- 
tions from  lost  Greek  poems,  especially  verses  of  the  dram- 
atists, among  whom  Euripides  holds  first  place.  They 
evince  a  mind  of  vast  and  varied  resources,  historical  as  well 
as  philosophical  —  the  mind  of  an  inquirer  and  a  seeker  after 
knowledge,  rather  than  that  of  an  exponent  or  an  opponent 
of  any  particular  philosophical  system.  Plutarch's  Greek  is 
not  fluent,  easy  or  even  clear.  He  uses  many  words  not  in 
the  ordinary  Greek  vocabulary,  and  he  too  often  constructs 
long  sentences,  the  thread  of  which  separately,  as  well  as  the 
connection,  cannot  be  traced  without  close  attention.  Hence, 
he  is  not  attractive  as  a  writer,  so  far  as  style  is  concerned, 
and  he  is  often  diffuse  and  carries  his  discussions  to  an  un- 
necessary length." 

Xenophon ,  Cicero ,  Nepos. —  Xenophon  and  Cicero  have  al- 
ready been  reviewed;  their  essays  are  among  the  best  which 
have  come  down  to  us  from  antiquity.  The  dialogue-essays  of 
Cicero  have  never  been  surpassed  in  purity  and  charm  of  style. 
The  biographical  essays  attributed  to  Cornelius  Nepos  cannot 
be  overlooked  in  any  account  of  the  ancient  classic  essayists. 
As  a  writer  of  this  type,  his  style  is  so  excellent,  pure  and  at- 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

tractive  that  he  is  used  in  almost  every  school  and  college  by 
the  students  of  Latin  literature.  As  to  the  biographer  of 
Nepos,  nothing  definite  has  been  ascertained.  He  was  prob- 
ably a  native  of  Verona,  Italy,  and  lived  in  the  first  century, 
B.  C.  From  the  essays  it  may  be  inferred  that  he  was  a  friend 
of  Cicero.  In-  imitation  of  Plutarch  he  wrote  essays  on  the 
lives  of  illustrious  men.  Schwabe  in  his  history  of  Roman 
literature  offers  this  criticism :  "  Nepos  has  left  us  speci- 
mens of  the  oldest  Latinity;  his  essays  are  valuable  for  their 
lucidity  of  arrangement,  unpretentious  tone,  and  fair  and 
sympathetic  judgments ;  but  they  hardly  attain  even  a  moder- 
ate level  of  accuracy  and  trust-worthiness  as  historical  essays ; 
at  times,  also,  the  style  is  inferior  owing  to  the  frequency  of 
popular  and  colloquial  idioms." 

Montaigne. —  The  most  famous  of  French  essayists,  was 
born  in  Dordogne,  Feb.  28,  1533;  died,  Sept.  13,  1592.  He 
was  educated  at  home  under  a  private  tutor,  and  at  Bordeaux 
College  where  he  studied  law.  For  a  time  he  was  attached  to 
the  Court  of  Francis  II.  He  traveled  extensively  in  Germany, 
Italy  and  Switzerland.  At  the  French  Court  and  during 
these  travels,  he  had  an  opportunity  to  study  the  men  and  the 
society  of  his  time.  As  a  close  observer  of  social  affairs  and 
of  the  actions  of  men,  he  resembles  Bacon  and  Lord  Chester- 
field. The  benefit  of  these  observations  is  given  to  us  in  his 
essays,  which  are,  according  to  some  critics,  the  most  valuable 
collection  in  this  department  of  French  literature.  Concern- 
ing the  style  of  his  essays  Montaigne  himself  offers  this  criti- 
cism :  "  It  is  a  natural,  simple  and  unaffected  speech  that  I 
love,  so  written  as  it  is  spoken,  and  such  upon  the  paper  as  it 
is  in  the  mouth,  a  pithy,  sinewy,  full,  strong,  compendious 
and  material  speech,  not  so  delicate  and  affected  as  vehement 
and  piercing  —  rather  difficult  than  tedious,  void  of  affecta- 
tion, free,  loose,  and  bold,  so  that  every  member  of  it  seems 


REPRESENTATIVE  ESSAYISTS  xgi 

to  make  a  body ;  not  pedantical,  nor  friar-like,  nor  lawyer-like, 
but  rather  downright  soldier-like.  I  decided  to  walk  with  my 
pen  as  I  go  with  my  feet,  and  let  my  mind  move  with  its  own 
natural  step,  not  the  steps  of  the  dancing  school  or  as  those 
who  leap  on  horseback  because  they  are  not  strong  enough  in 
their  legs  to  march  on  foot.  The  titles  of  my  chapters  em- 
brace not  always  the  matter,  they  often  but  glance  at  it  by 
some  mark."  "  There  is,"  says  Morley,  "  a  grace  in  Mon- 
taigne's simplicity,  a  mixture  of  the  Latin  training  with  the 
homely  vigor  of  his  country's  speech,  that  no  translation  fair- 
ly reproduces.  The  full  enjoyment  of  Montaigne  is  reserved 
for  those  who  read  his  essays  through  attentively.  One  may 
live  long  in  the  world  and  never  come  to  know  even  a  near 
friend  as  completely  as  orrf  may  know  Montaigne  by  an  at- 
tentive reading  of  his  essays." 

Criticism  by  George  Saintsbury. — "  The  book  of  Montaigne's 
essays  has  hardly  been  second  in  influence  to  any  of  the  modern 
world.  This  influence  is  almost  equally  remarkable  in  point  of 
matter  and  in  point  of  form,  as  regards  the  subsequent  history 
of  thought  and  as  regards  the  subsequent  history  of  literature. 
The  latter  aspect  may  be  taken  first.  Montaigne  is  one  of  the 
few  great  writers  who  have  not  only  perfected  but  have  also 
invented  a  literary  form.  The  essay  as  he  gave  it  had  no  fore- 
runner in  modern  literature,  and  no  direct  ancestor  in  the  litera- 
ture of  classical  times.  It  is  indeed  not  improbable  that  it  owes 
something  to  the  body  of  tractates  by  different  authors  and  of 
different  dates,  which  goes  under  the  name  of  Plutarch's  Morals, 
and  it  also  bears  some  resemblance  to  the  miscellaneous  work 
of  Lucian.  But  the  resemblance  is  in  both  cases  at  most  that 
of  suggestion.  It  has  been  suggested  that  the  form  which  the 
essays  assumed  was  in  a  way  accidental,  and  this  of  itself  pre- 
cludes the  idea  of  a  definite  model  even  if  such  a  model  could 
be  found.  Beginning  with  the  throwing  together  of  a  few 
stray  thoughts  and  quotations  linked  *by  a  community  of  sub- 
ject, the  author  by  degrees  acquires  more  and  more  certainty 
of  hand,  until  he  produces  such  masterpieces  as  the  essay  on 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-.FORMS 

the  poetry  of  Virgil."  "In  the  arrangement,  as  in  the  selec- 
tion of  his  language,  he  is  equally  original,  mixing  Latin  archaic 
and  provincial  words  with  a  good  deal  of  freedom,  but  by  no 
means  to  excess.  There  is  little  or  no  trace  in  him  of  the  in- 
terminable sentence  which  is  the  drawback  of  early  prose  in 
all  languages  when  it  has  to  deal  with  anything  more  difficult 
to  manage  than  mere  narrative.  As  a  rule,  he  is  careless  of 
definitely  rhythmical  cadence,  though  his  sentences  are  always 
pleasant  to  the  ear.  But  the  principal  characteristic  of  his  prose, 
style  is  its  remarkable  ease  and  flexibility.  These  peculiarities, 
calculated  in  themselves  to  exercise  a  salutary  influence  on  a 
language  as  yet  somewhat  undisciplined,  acquired  by  accident  an 
importance  of  an  extraordinary  kind.  For,  in  the  subsequent 
reformation  of  the  French  language  only  two  writers  of  the  older 
date  held  their  ground,  and  these  two  were  Rabelais  and  Mon- 
taigne. The  essays  of  Montaigne,  the  popularity  of  which  no 
academic  censorship  could  touch,  thus  kept  on  through  the  suc- 
ceeding centuries,  and  perpetuated  a  treasury  of  French  in  which 
every  generation  could  behold  the  riches  of  their  ancestors.  The 
study  of  these  essays  influenced  all  the  great  prose-writers  of 
France,  and  they  could  not  fail  to  be  influenced  in  the  direction 
which  it  was  most  important  that  they  should  take  by  the  racy 
phrase,  the  quaint  and  picturesque  vocabulary,  and  unconstrained 
constructions  of  Montaigne." 

Lord  Bacon. —  Francis  Bacon,  the  English  contemporary  of 
Montaigne,  was  born  in  1561  and  died  in  1626.  A  student 
at  Cambridge,  an  English  Ambassador,  a  member  of  Parlia- 
ment, Lord  Chancellor,  a  jurist,  statesman,  historian,  phil- 
osopher, Lord  Bacon  has  an  additional  title  to  fame  for  hav- 
ing left  among  his  literary  bequests  to  posterity  a  small 
volume  of  essays  which  now  serve  more  perhaps  than  any  other 
achievement  to  render  his  name  immortal.  A  volume  of 
criticism  has  been  written  on  this  small  volume  of  essays. 
For,  in  every  age  since  their  production,  and  among  all  peo- 
ples critics  Have  arisen  who  passed  judgment  upon  them. 


REP  RESENT  ATI  I'll  ESSAYISTS 

Criticism  by  Thomas  B.  Shaw. — "  Among  the  English  writ- 
ings of  Bacon  the  most  important  is  the  little  volume  entitled 
Essays,  the  first  edition  of  which  he  published  in  1597,  and 
which  was  several  times  reprinted,  with  additions,  the  last,  in 
1625.  These  are  short  essays  on  an  immense  variety  of  sub- 
jects, from  grave  questions  of  morals  and  policy  down  to  the 
arts  of  amusement  and  the  most  trifling  accomplishments ;  and 
in  them  appears,  in  a  manner  more  appreciable  to  ordinary  in 
tellects  than  in  his  elaborate  philosophical  works,  the  wonderful 
union  of  depth  and  variety  which  characterize  Bacon.  The  in- 
tellectual activity  they  display  is  literally  pretentious;  the  im- 
mense multiplicity  and  aptness  of  unexpected  illustration  is  only 
equalled  by  the  originality  with  which  Bacon  manages  to  treat 
the  most  worn-out  and  commonplace  subject,  such,  for  instance, 
as  friendship  or  gardening.  No  one  was  ever  so  concise  as 
Bacon;  and  in  his  mode  of  writing  there  is  that  remarkable 
quality  which  gives  to  the  style  of  Shakespeare  such  a  strong- 
ly marked  individuality ;  that  is,  a  combination  of  the  intellectual 
and  imaginative,  the  closest  reasoning  in  the  coldest  metaphor, 
the  condensed  ^brilliancy  of  an  illustration  identified  with  the 
development  of^thought.  Many  of  the  essays  are  absolutely  op- 
pressive from  the  power  of  thought  compressed  into  the  smallest 
possible  compass." 

"  Of  Bacon's  moral  works  the  most  valuable  are  the  essays. 
It  is  impossible  to  praise  too  highly  writings  which  have  been  so 
widely  read  and  so  universally  admired.  The  matter  is  of  the 
familiar,  practical  kind  that  '  comes  home  to  men's  bosoms.'  The 
thoughts  are  weighty,  and  even  when  not  original  have  acquired 
a  peculiar  and  unique  tone  by  passing  through  the  crucible  of 
Bacon's  mind.  A  sentence  from  the  essays  can  rarely  be  mis- 
taken for  the  production  of  any  other  writer.  His  short,  pithy 
sayjngs  have,  become  popular  mottoes  and  household  words.  The 
style  is  CQiaint,  original,  abounding  in  allusions  and  witticisms 
and  rich  even  to  gbrgeousness  with  piled  up  analogies  and  meta- 
phors." 

Criticism  by  Dugald  Stewart.— "  In  Bacon's  essays  the  su- 
periority of  his  genius  appears  to  the  greatest  advantage;  the 
novelty  and  depth  of  his  reflections  often  receiving  a  strong 


jg4  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

relief  from  the  triteness  of  his  subject.  The  volume  may  be 
read  from  beginning  to  end  in  a  few  hours,  and  yet  after  the 
twentieth  perusal,  one  -seldom  fails  to  remark  in  it  something 
overlooked  before.  This  is  a  characteristic  of  all  Bacon's  writ- 
ings, and  is  only  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  inexhaustible  aliment 
they  furnish  to  our  thoughts." 


CHAPTER    XXVII 
THE  ESSAY  (CONCLUDED) 

Representative  English  Essayists. —  Besides  Lord  Bacon, 
the  representative  English  essayists  are  Addison,  Carlyle,  De 
Quincey,  Jeffrey,  Lamb,  Macaulay,  Smith,  Steele,  Swift,  Mi- 
vart,  Mallock,  Huxley,  Lilly,  Harrison,  Arnold.  A  large 
number  of  others,  like  Hume  and  Milton  have  written  essays, 
but  their  larger  works  lie  in  other  departments  of  literature. 
Only  a  few  of  the  many  who  deserve  honorable  mention  can 
be  dealt  with  here. 

Joseph  Addison. —  He  claims  our  attention  as  one  of  the 
greatest  of  the  English  essayists.  His  father  was  an  eminent 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  at  Milston  in  Wiltshire, 
where  the  son  was  born  in  1672;  he  died  in  1719.  Originally 
intended  for  the  Church  he  drifted  into  literature  and  politics, 
principally  through  Dryden's  influence  over  him,  and  the  pa- 
tronage of  Lord  Somers.  Like  Bacon,  he  became  celebrated 
through  his  essays  which  are  far  more  voluminous  than  those 
of  his  illustrious  predecessor  and  which  have  evoked  a  large 
amount^of  criticism. 

Criticism  by  Blair. — "  Mr.  Addison  is,  beyond  doubt,  in  the 
English  language,  one  of  the  most  perfect  examples  of  the  writer ; 
and,  on  the  whole,  the  safest  model  for  imitation.  He  is  freest 
from  considerable  defects  which  the  language  affords.  Perspicu- 
ous and  pure  he  is  in  the  highest  degree;  his  precision,  indeed, 
not  very  great ;  yet  nearly  as  great  as  his  subjects  require ;  the 
construction  of  his  sentences  is  easy,  agreeable,  and  commonly 

185 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

very  musical,  carrying  a  character  of  smoothness  more  than  of 
strength.  In  figurative  language  he  is  rich,~~particularly  in  sim- 
iles and  metaphors  which  are  so  employed  as  to  render  his  style 
splendid,  without  being  gaudy.  There  is  not  the  least  affecta- 
tion in  his  manner.  We  see  no  marks  of  labor  —  nothing  forced 
or  constrained :  on  the  contrary,  we  discover  great  elegance  joined 
with  great  ease  and  simplicity.  He  is,  in  particular,  distinguished 
by  a  character  of  modesty  and  of  politeness,  which  appears  in  all 
his  writings.  No  autTior  has  a  more  popular  and  insinuating 
manner,  and  the  great  regard  which  he  everywhere  shows  for 
virtue  and  religion,  recommends  him  highly.  His  style,  per- 
fectly suited  to  essays,  lacks  sufficient  strength  for  the  higher 
and  more  elaborate  species  of  composition." 

Criticism  by  Allibone. — "  Perhaps  no  English  writer  has 
been  so  fortunate  as  Addison  in  uniting  so  many  discordant 
tastes  in  a  unanimous  verdict  of  approbation.  Brown  has  been 
thought  pedantic,  Johnson  inflated,  Taylor  conceited,  and  Burke 
exuberant ;  but  the  graceful  simplicity  of  Addison  delights  alike 
the  rude  taste  of  the  uneducated  and  the  classic  judgment  of  the 
learned.  All  critics  must  agree  with  Dr.  Johnson,  who  says  — 
'  whoever  wishes  to  attain  an  English  style,  familiar  but  not 
cyarse,  elegant  but  not  ostentatious,  must  give  his  days  and 
nights  to  the  volumes  of  Addison/  The  immense  fertility  of  in- 
vention displayed  in  these  charming  essays,  the  variety  of  their 
subjects,  and  the  singular  felicity  of  their  treatment  will  ever 
place  them  among  the  masterpieces  of  criticism.  Nothing  is  too 
lofty  or  too  lowly  for  his  pen  —  the  principles  of  morality  and 
religion  —  the  colored  ribbons  of  the  ladies  —  the  grandeur  of 
Milton  —  the  gossip  of  the  tea-party.  This  essayist  was  long 
esteemed  the  finest  model  of  elegant  yet  idiomatic  English  prose ; 
and  even  now  the  student  finds  qualities  that  never  can  become 
obsolete  —  a  never- failing  cleverness  and  limpidity  of  expression, 
and  a  singular  appropriateness  between  the-language  and  the 
thought." 

Macaulay.— He  was  born  at  Rothley  Temple,  Leicester- 
shire, October  25,  1800;  died  at  Holly  Lodge,  December  28, 
1859.  He  graduated  at  Cambridge,  giving  while  there  most 


REPRESENTATIVE  ESSAYISTS  I S; 

attention  to  the  classics.  He  held  several  official  positions, 
but  devoted  most  of  his  life  to  literature.  His  fame  rests  upon 
a  "  History  of  England,"  a  volume  of  ballads,  and  several  vol- 
umes of  essays. 

Criticism  by  Mark  Pattison. — "  The  literary  outfit  of  Ma- 
caulay  was  as  complete  as  has  ever  been  possessed  by  any  Eng- 
lish writer;  and  if  it  wants  the  illumination  of  philosophy,  it  has 
an  equivalent  resource  in  a  practical  acquaintance  with  affairs, 
with  administration,  with  the  interior  of  cabinets  and  the  humor  of 
popular  assemblies.  Nor  was  this  knowledge  merely  stored  in 
his  memory  —  it  was  always  at  his  command.  Whatever  his 
subject,  he  pours  over  it  his  stream  of  illustration,  drawn  from 
the  records  of  all  ages  and  countries.  Figures  from  history 
ancient  and  modern,  sacred  and  secular ;  characters  from  plays 
and  novels,  from  Plautus  down  to  Walter  Scott  and  Jane  Aus- 
ten ;  images  and  similes  from  poets  of  every  age  and  every 
nation ;  shrewd  thrusts  from  satirists,  wise  saws  from  sages,  pleas- 
antries caustic  or  pathetic  from  humorists, —  all  these  fill  Macau- 
lay's  essays  with  the  bustle  and  variety  of  some  glittering  masque 
and  cosmoramic  revel  of  great  books  and  heroical  men.  His 
style  fs^eioTefaH  else,  the  style  of  great  literary  knowledge.  His 
essays  are  not  merely  instructive  as  history;  they  are,  like  Mil- 
ton's blank  verse,  freighted  with  the  spoils  of  all  the  ages.  They 
are  literature  as  well  as  history.  In  their  diversified  contents 
the  Essays  are  a  library  by  themselves ;  for  those  who,  having 
little  time  for  study,  want  one  book  which  may  be  a  substitute 
for  many,  we  would  recommend  the  Essays  in  preference  to  any- 
thing else." 

Criticism  by  Alfred  Welch. — "  What  impresses  the  reader  of 
Macaulay  is  his  skill  in  the  delineation_aL-diaracter  —  his  ener- 
getic^ impassioned^  tone.  From  'hisfvast  and  well-digested  read- 
ing proceed  the  abounding  mass  and  weight  of  his  style, —  a  river 
of  ideas  and  facts  urged  forward  by  an  internal  heat.  He  is  so 
opulent  that  he  makes  criticism  almost  a  creative  art,  and  the 
author  or  work  reviewed  becomes  a  hint  for  the  construction  of 
picturesque  dissertations,  magnificent  comparisons,  and  a  glow- 
ing dialectic.  His  style  is  characterized  by  a  wealth  of  illustra- 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

tion   and   adornment,    antithesis   of   ideas,   regular   sequence   of 
thought,  harmonious  construction  and  incomparable  lucidity." 

Criticism  by  Dean  Milman. — "  Macaulay's  essays,  for  the 
most  part,  relate  to  English  history.  In  virtue  of  their  inimita- 
ble style,  these  essays  will  always  give  Macaulay  a  high  place 
among  English  classics.  His  style  was  eminently  his  own,  but 
his  own  not  by  strange  words,  or  strange  collocation  of  words, 
by  phrases  of  perpetual  occurrence,  or  the  straining  after  orig- 
inal and  striking  terms  of  expression.  Its  characteristics  were 
vigor  and  animation,  copiousness,  clearness,  above  all,  sound 
English,  now  a  rare  excellence.  The  vigor  and  life  were  un- 
abating;  perhaps  in  that  conscious  strength  which  cost  no  exer- 
tio.n  he  did  not  always  gauge  and  measure  the  force  of  his  own 
words.  Those  who  studied  the  progress  of  his  writing  might 
perhaps  see  that  the  full  stream,  though  it  never  stagnated,  might 
at  first  overflow  its  banks;  in  later  days  it  ran  with  a  more  direct, 
undivided  torrent.  His  copiousness  had  nothing  timid,  diffuse, 
Asiatic  —  no  ornament  for  the  sake  of  ornament.  As  to  its 
clearness,  one  may  read  a  sentence  of  Macaulay  twice  to  judge 
of  its  full  force,  never  to  comprehend.  His  English  was  pure, 
both  in  idiom  and  in  words,  pure  to  fastidiousness,  not  that  he 
discarded,  or  did  not  make  free  use  of  the  plainest  and  most 
homely  terms,  but  every  word  must  be  genuine  English,  nothing 
that  approached  real  vulgarity,  nothing  that  had  not  the  stamp 
of  popular  use,  or  the  authority  of  sound  English  writers,  noth- 
ing unfamiliar  to  the  common  ear." 

Thomas  Carlyle.— He  was  born  at  Ecclefechan  in  Dum- 
frieshire  on  December  4,  1795;  his. life  and  work  belong  to 
the  nineteenth  century.  He  is  one  of  the  most  original  of  all 
English  essayists.  Perhaps  it  would  be  true  to  say  that 
his  influence  has  been  greater  than  that  of  any  other.  English 
essayist,  not  excepting  Macaulay  himself.  His  voluminous 
writings  belong,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  departments  of  His- 
tory, Biography  and  the  Essay.  The  amount  of  criticism  is 
large  and  varied,  corresponding  with  the  influence  of  the  man, 


REPRESENTATIVE  ESSAYISTS  ^9 

who,  in  spite  of  his  many  defects,  is  one  of  the  largest  and 
richest  personalities  in  literature. 

Criticism  by  William  H.  Sheran. —  The  style  of  Carlyle  was 
quite  normal  until  he  began  the  study  of  German  literature.  Any 
reader  of  his  early  essays  would  be  satisfied  with  the  respect 
shown  toward  the  English  idiom  by  the  young  Scotch  critic.  But 
as  his  idiosyncracies  developed  with  years,  as  he  became  im- 
mersed more  and  more  in  German  literature  —  the  study  of 
Richter,  Goethe,  and  others  —  his  style  lost  its  normal  natural 
character;  foreign  idioms  and  turns  of  phrase  began  to  appear; 
the  extraordinary  passion  and  intensity  of  the  man  broke  all  the 
prescribed  bonds  of  speech,  and,  as  a  consequence,  we  have  in 
his  later  writings  a  violation  of  about  all  the  rules  of  grammar 
and  rhetoric,  and  all  the  accepted  canons  of  good  taste,  as  if  a 
cyclone  in  the  literary  order,  had  swept  through  his  pages,  tossing 
fragments  of  sentences  about,  wrenching  and  twisting  idioms  and 
phrases  into  an  almost  unrecognizable  mass  of  verbal  ruin,  up- 
heaving and  uprooting  the  very  foundations  and  the  finer  growth 
of  our  speech.  Carlyle  rides  the  whirlwind  and  directs  the  storm, 
enjoying,  apparently,  the  havoc  he  makes  with  verbs  and  pro- 
nouns, cases  and  conjunctions.  He  gives  his  fiery  indignation 
and  enthusiasm  full  play,  regardless  of  the  laws  of  English 
speech.  He  strikes  with  sledge-hammer  force,  like  Thor  with 
his  glittering  hammer,  dashing  mountains  to  the  earth;  only, 
instead  of  a  hammer,  he  used  fragments  of  sentences.  Hence, 
Carlyle  is  sometimes  called  a  literary  savage.  Yet,  after  making 
the  necessary  deductions  for  his  brutal  use  of  rhetoric,  one  must 
admit  that  no  English  writer  is  more  forcible,  more  noble  in  the 
pursuit  of  high  ideals,  than  Carlyle.  He  was  dissatisfied  with 
the  existing  order  of  society,  as  he  found  it  in  his  day,  and,  ac- 
cordingly, he  became  an  iconoclast  like  Shelley.  ^He  attacked 
social  institutions  with  the  same  vehemence  and  bitter  sarcasm; 
but,  unlike  Shelley,  he  spared  religion  and  morality  —  he  could 
never  be  an  advocate  of  free  love  or  pen  the  blasphemy  of  the 
author  of  "  Queen  Mab."  His  early  Calvinistic  training  made 
him  as  severe  in  morals  as  a  prophet  of  the  Old  Testament ;  and 
although,  he  lost  all  faith  in  Christianity,  he  never  openly  at- 
tacked the  faith  of  his  countrymen.  In  religion,  he  was,  toward 
the  end  of  his  life,  an  avowed  Agnostic.  He  frankly  admits 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

this  in  a  letter  to  Emerson.  Carlyle  is  a  great  name  in  English 
Criticism,  deserving  to  rank  with  Dryden,  Johnson,  and  Arnold. 
In  range  of  information  and  devotion  to  his  work,  he  was  greater 
perhaps  than  any  other  English  critic.  He  will  be  always  re- 
membered for  his  two  famous  sayings,  "  Genius  is  an  infinite 
capacity  for  taking  pains ;"  "  whatever  you  do,  do  it  with  all 
your  might."  Carlyle  should  be  remembered,  not  only  for  his 
moral  maxims,  but  also  for  his  interest  in  German  literature, 
and  in  Northern  Mythology.  He  was  the  first  Englishman  of 
Letters  to  devote  himself  to  German  studies,  and  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  Goethe  admitted,  Carlyle  knew  German  literature  and 
History  better  than  the  Germans  themselves.  He  was  also  a  pio- 
neer in  unfolding  the  literary  riches  of  Northern  Mythology ;  he 
lamented  the  fact  that  while  Southern  Mythology  found  adequate 
treatment  at  the  hands  of  a  Homer  or  a  Virgil,  there  had  been 
no  Homer  to  sing  of  the  heroes  of  the  North.  His  own  studies, 
though  meagre  and  superficial,  were  nevertheless  sufficient  to 
show  the  immense  literary  possibilities  of  Northern  Mythology. 

Criticism  by  James  Russell  Lowell. — "  Carlyle  is  the  first  in 
insight  of  English  critics  and  the  most  vivid  of  English  writers. 
The  remarkable  feature  of  Mr.  Carlyle's  criticism  is  the  sleuth- 
hound  instinct  with  which  he  presses  on  to  the  matter  of  his 
theme  —  never  turned  aside  by  a  false  scent,  regardless  of  the 
outward  beauty  of  form,  sometimes  almost  contemptuous  of  it, 
in  his  hunger  after  the  intellectual  nourishment  which  it  may  hide. 
The  delicate  skeleton  of  admirably  articulated  and  related  parts, 
which  underlies  and  sustains  every  true  work  of  art,  and  keeps 
it  from  sinking  on  itself  a  shapeless  heap,  he  would  crush  re- 
morselessly, to  come  at  the  marrow  of  meaning.  In  his  critical 
essays  he  had  the  advantage  of  a  well-defined  theme,  and  of 
limits  which  kept  his  natural  extravagance  within  bounds  and 
compelled  some  sort  of  discretion  and  compactness.  The  great 
merit  of  his  essays  lies  in  a  criticism  based  on  wide  and  various 
study,  which,  careless  of  tradition,  applied  its  standard  to  the 
real  and  not  the  contemporary  worth  of  the  literary  performance 
to  be  judged.  But  in  proportion  as  his  humor  gradually  over- 
balanced the  other  qualities  of  his  mind,  his  taste  for  the  eccen- 
tric, amorphous,  and  violent  in  men  became  excessive,  disturbing 
more  and  more  his  perception  of  the  more  commonplace  attributes 


REPRESENTATIVE  ESSAYISTS  ]t)\ 

which  give  consistency  to  portraiture.  No  other  writer  com- 
pares with  him  for  vividness.  He  is  himself  a  witness,  and 
makes  us  witnesses  of  whatever  he  describes.  This  is  genius 
beyond  question ;  and  of  a  very,  rare  quality.  If  not  a  profound 
thinker,  he  had  what  was  next  best  —  he  felt  profoundly,  and 
his  cry  came  out  of  the  depth.  With  the  gift  of  song  Carl  vie 
would  have  been  the  greatest  of  epic  poets  since  Homer.  With- 
out it,  to  modulate  and  harmonize  and  bring  parts  into  their 
proper  relation,  he  is  the  most  amorphous  of  humorists,  the  most 
shining  avator  of  whim  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Beginning 
with  a  hearty  contempt  for  shams,  he  came  at  length  to  believe 
in  brute  force  as  the  only  reality,  and  has  as  little  sense  of  justice 
as  Thackeray  allowed  to  women.  Still,  with  all  deductions,  he 
remains  the  profoundest  critic  and  the  most  dramatic  imagina- 
tion of  modern  times  —  such  vivid  pictures  of  events,  such  living 
conceptions  of  character,  we  find  nowhere  else  in  prose.  As  an 
inspirer  and  awakener  his  value  cannot  be  overestimated." 

Matthew  Arnold. —  A  representative  English  essayist  of 
modern  times,  Matthew  Arnold  was  born  in  1822;  died  in 
1888.  He  was  a  son  of  the  famous  Dr.  Arnold  of  Rugby, 
and  a  member  of  a  family  distinguished  in  English  literature. 
Like  Carlyle  and  Macaulay,  he  devoted  his  life  to  letters,  ex- 
celling both  in  verse  and  prose.  His  favorite  prose-form  was 
the  essay,  and  the  bulk  of  his  prose  writing  lies  in  this  de- 
partment. His  essays,  like  those  of  Acldison,  are  most  highly 
finished  productions.  Like  Johnson,  he  was  a  critic,  but  on 
a  larger  scale;  he  resembles  Carlyle  in  the  range  and  freedom 
of  his  criticism.  To  his  countrymen  he  professed  to  be  an 
apostle  of  culture  in  the  highest  and  best  sense  of  that  word. 
The  many  volumes  of  his  prose  deal  with  the  various  aspects 
of  culture. 

Criticism  by  William  H.  Sheran. —  The  essays  of  Arnold  are 
among  the  best  in  English  literature  —  the  result  of  a  splendid 
literary  gift,  and  the  highest  classical  culture. 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

The  purpose  throughout  all  his  criticism  is  to  make  known  the 
best  that  has  been  thought  and  said  in  the  world.  '  As  a  critic 
of  life,  he  aimed  at  the  highest  ideals,  sought  to  make  culture, 
sweetness,  and  light  prevail  among  his  countrymen.  He  imi- 
tated the  example  set  by  Lord  Chesterfield,  in  the  matter  of  im- 
proving the  conduct  and  manners  of  his  fellows,  just  as  in  lit- 
erature he  was  a  constant  student  and  imitator  of  Newman.  The 
least  valuable  part  of  his  criticism  deals  with  the  Bible  and 
theological  subjects.  Arnold  had  not  the  mental  and  scholarly 
equipment  necessary  for  producing  any  work  of  permanent  value 
in  those  departments.  The  poetry  of  Arnold  should  be  noted  on 
account  of  its  quality.  Nowhere  is  his  literary  gift  shown  to 
better  advantage.  "Dover  Beach,"  "  Obermann,"  "The  Fu- 
ture," are  lyrics  of  the  best  class ;  as  a  dramatist,  he  was  a  fail- 
ure, having  no  talent  for  character  creation. 

Criticism  by  Richard  Hutton. — "  There  is  in  the  style  of 
Arnold  much  sweetness,  beauty  and  light,  calm  contemplation  and 
exquisite  polish.  The  essays  are  a  collection  of  some  of  our  best 
prose.  His  style  is  often  plain  and  business-like,  sometimes  col- 
loquial, never  highly  ornamental,  occasionally  marred  by  '  damna- 
ble iteration/  A  vein  of  sarcasm  and  of  rich  humor  may  be 
found  in  it  at  times,  but  never  the  biting  cynicism  of  Carlyle.  A 
finished  expression  was  at  most  times  his  studious  care.  Traces 
of  the  French  idiom  may  be  found,  but  for  the  most  part,  he  ex- 
hibits classic  purity  in  idiom  and  in  diction/' 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 
BIOGRAPHY 

Meaning  of  the  Term. —  The  word,  biography,  signifies  writ- 
ing which  deals  with  life.  It  is  life-history;  and  wherever  in- 
dividual life  is  manifested,  the  material  for  biography  is  sup- 
plied. The  word  is  used  in  a  double  sense.  In  its  widest 
meaning  it  includes  the  life-history  of  plant,  animal,  man  and 
the  orders  of  life  above  man  so  far  as  they  are  revealed  to  us. 
Thus,  for  example,  we  have  the  Biography  of  the  Climbing 
Plant;  the  Biography  of  Napoleon;  the  Biography  of  Christ. 
Biography  in  its  widest  meaning  deals  with  the  same  subjects 
as  biology,  but  in  a  different  manner.  Biology  is  a  science 
treating  of  all  the  phenomena  of  life;  it  aims  at  discovering 
and  classifying  all  the  data  concerning  life;  whereas  biogra- 
phy selects  only  such  data  as  will  make  the  strongest  appeal 
and  awaken  the  liveliest  interest.  It  selects  those  facts  of  life 
which  individualize  the  subject  and  mark  it  off  from  the 
species.  For  example,  peculiar  traits  of  character  or  lines  of 
conduct  in  the  human  hero.  And  these  selected  facts  of  life 
are  given  not  in  the  form  o£  a  scientific  treatise,  as  is  the 
case  with  the  various  departments  of  biology.  They  are  pre- 
sented in  the  form  of  a  story  which  gives  scope  to  the  imagi- 
nation and  the  personal  bias  and  the  creative  genius  of  the 
author.  Biography  in  the  strictest  sense  is  a  department  of 
literature  dealing  with  human  life.  When  individual  human 
life  is  treated  we  have  Biography  proper;  whereas  collective 
human  life,  for  example,  the  life  of  a  nation,  a  race  or  a  period, 
when  so  treated,  is  called  History. 

193 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

The  Relation  of  Biography  to  History. —  The  provinces  of 
the  historian  and  biographer  are  distinct,  although  closely  re- 
lated. On  this  point,  Leslie  Stephen,  the  author  of  the  Dic- 
tionary of  National  Biography,  observes :  "  Biography  is 
closely  related  to  history  because  most  events  are  connected 
with  some  particular  person.  For  example,  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  describe  the  Norman  Conquest  without  some  ref- 
erence to  Harold  or  William  the  Conqueror.  And  so  with 
every,  other  period.  Hence,  history  depends  upon  biography 
for  its  material ;  it  selects  that  part  of  every  man's  life  which 
belongs  to  the  public,  and  leaves  the  details  of  his  private  life 
to  the  biographer."  It  follows  that  the  study  of  biography 
is  supplementary  to  that  of  history ;  it  furnishes  those  portions 
of  the  individual  story  which  the  historian  passes  over.  It 
also  gives  a  better  chance  to  study  human  character,  because 
the  individual  life  is  presented  in  its  completeness. 

The  Relation  of  Biography  to  Other  Departments  of  Litera- 
ture.—  Biography  furnishes  subject  matter  for  all  departments 
of  literature.  It  supplies  those  humanizing  elements  which 
distinguish  literature  as  such  from  other  kinds  of  writing, 
especially  from  science  and  philosophy.  The  amount  of 
biography  employed  in  the  different  departments  of  literature 
varies,  but  it  is  present  in  all,  and  is  of  vital  interest  in  all. 

Some  Illustrations.—-  The  letter  tells  either  of  the  author's 
own  life  and  experience,  or  that  some  other  person.  Two 
departments  of  the  essay  are  strictly  biographical  —  the 
memoir  and  the  eulogy.  Besides  these,  the  essay  in  criticism 
is  in  a  large  measure  biographical ;  for  example,  the  critical 
essays  of  Macaulay  and  Johnson  divide  their  space  about 
equally  between  biography  and  criticism.  One  division  of 
oratory  is  wholly  biographical,  namely,  the  panegyric.  And 
when  not  exclusively  such,  the  oration  either  employs  bio- 


BIOGRAPHY 

graphical  data  or  makes  some  individual  life  the  central  topic. 
For  example,  the  orations  of  Cicero  and  Demosthenes  hinge 
upon  such  characters  as  Catiline  or  Philip.  Webster  and 
Burke  make  an  equally  profitable  use  of  biography.  Another 
department  of  oratory,  the  Christian  sermon,  deals  for  the 
most  part  with  important  personages  of  the  Church ;  the  bulk 
of  this  literature  is  an  exhortation  to  imitate  the  individual 
life  of  Christ,  and  biographical  data  of  this  life  are  continual- 
ly employed.  The  largest  use  of  biography  outside  of  history, 
is  found  in  the  drama  and  in  fiction,  which  is  a  part  of 
dramatic  literature.  The  individual  is  reproduced  in  his 
habit  as  he  lived,  and  facts  of  biography  are  needed  for  the 
purpose.  The  best  examples  in  English  are  the  historical 
dramas  of  Shakespeare;  and  the  historical  novel  as  written 
by  Lytton  or  Walter  Scott.  A  novel  or  drama  which  attempts 
to  reproduce  any  historical  personage  must  do  so  through 
the  medium  of  biography.  The  epic,  in  like  manner  owes 
much  to  biography,  although  the  bulk  of  the  long  narrative 
poems  which  receive  this  title  present  heroes  about  whom  few 
details  are  known;  yet  the  facts,  though  scant,  belong  to 
biography.  And,  last  of  all,  the  lyric  tells  the  brief  story  of 
a  passing  mood  or  feeling,  and  thus  gives  a  glimpse  of  in- 
dividual life.  Although  brief,  the  lyric  is  intensely  human 
and  personal,  and  a  record  of  the  facts  of  life.  Thus,  all  de- 
partments of  literature  employ  biographical  matter.  As  Wal- 
ter Pater  writes :  "  Literature  is  biography  in  solution ;  for 
the  human  element  is  ever  present  in  one  form  or  another." 

Sources  of  Biography. —  Biography  proper  deals  with  his- 
torical personages,  men  and  women  of  eminence  who  have 
lived  and  left  traces  of  their  lives.  Hence,  the  biographer 
works  with  documents,  for  documents  are  the  traces  left  by 
the  thoughts  and  actions  of  men  of  former  times;  through 


I0,6  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

documents  the  biographer  learns  all  that  can  be  learned  of  the 
illustrious  persons  of  the  past. 

The  Collection  of  Documents. —  The  first  work  of  a  biogra- 
pher is  to  collect  documents,  all  the  accessible  sources  of  in- 
formation. This  work  was  never  easy,  although  much  easier 
now  than  in  ancient  times.  The  increased  facilities  for  con- 
sulting archives  and  libraries  make  the-  work  much  easier. 
The  earliest  scholars  consulting,  as  they  did,  not  all  the  docu- 
ments, nor  even  the  best  documents,  used  whatever  were  at 
hand ;  and,  hence,  traces  of  their  ignorance  in  the  early 
biographical  works.  For  example,  Plutarch's  "  Lives "  in 
which  imagination  so  often  goes  into  partnership  with  fact. 
At  the  present  time  the  libraries  and  archives  of  the  world 
are  thrown  open  to  the  scholars ;  expeditions  are  sent  out 
yearly  by  the  various  governments  for  the  discovery  and  col- 
lection of  documents.  Besides  the  large  public  collections  in 
museums  and  archives,  there  are  equally  valuable  private  col- 
lections. These  are  owned  either  by  individuals  or  corpo- 
rations. For  example,  the  Monks  of  the  East  still  hold  in 
their  monasteries  invaluable  documents.  Several  modern  at- 
tempts have  been  made  to  centralize  and  create  one  large  store- ^ 
house  of  documents ;  for  example,  the  first  Napoleon  enter-  * 
tained  the  design  of  concentrating  at  Paris  the  archives  of  the 
whole  of  Europe,  and  for  that  purpose  he  actually  conveyed 
to  Paris  the  archives  of  Belgium,  Castile,  the  Holy  Roman 
Empire  and  others,  all  of  which  the  French  Government  was^ 
compelled  to  restore.  The  British  Museum  at  London  repre- 
sents another  attempt  to  form  a  merger  of  international  docu- 
ments. But  the  most  widely  representative  collection,  and  the 
most  precious,  is  the  Vatican  Library,  opened  some  years  ago 
by  Leo  XIII  to  the  scholars  of  Europe. 


BIOGRAPHY 

Various  Methods  of  Making  Documents  Accessible  to  the 
Biographer. —  Besides  opening  the  large  libraries  of  the  world 
to  those  who  wish  to  consult  them,  the  study  of  original 
documents  is  now  aided  in  various  ways :  First,  by  the  pub- 
lication of  elaborate  catalogues ;  each  Government  issues  such 
catalogues  of  its  own  archives,  museums,  and  libraries;  and 
this  policy,  universal  at  the  present  time,  enables  the  biogra- 
pher to  locate  his  material.  Second,  by  the  training  of  ex- 
perts who  pass  upon  the  genuineness  of  documents ;  each  gov- 
ernment employs  a  number  of  these;  they  are  assisted  by 
various  societies  of  research :  for  example,  the  Society  of  the 
Bollandists,  the  Imperial  Academy  of  Vienna,  the  German 
Historical  Society.  Third,  by  transcription  of  original  docu- 
ments ;  they  are  transcribed  or  often  photographed  and  spread 
broadcast,  enabling  the  biographer  to  consult  the  documents 
in  his  home  library.  Fourth,  by  liberal  appropriations  from 
Governments,  Universities,  Societies,  enabling  research  parties 
to  visit  distant  countries  and  discover  documents;  for  ex- 
ample, Palestine,  Egypt  and  Greece  at  the  present  time  have 
parties  working  in  the  interests  of  various  governments. 
When  Renan  began  his  Life  of  Christ,  the  French  Govern- 
ment paid  his  expenses  in'  Palestine  and  aided  him  in  collect- 
ing material. 

The  Classification  of  Biographical  Matter. —  After  finding 
the  necessary  sources,  it  remains  to  classify  and  arrange 
the  material,  so  that  no  important  section  of  it  will  be  over- 
looked. Biographers  adopt  several  methods  of  consulting 
documents  and  collecting  material.  First,  they  take  notes 
from  original  documents  and  out  of  a  mass  of  extracts,  memo- 
randa, etc.,  they  construct  their  biographies.  Another  method 
is  to  read  the  original  documents  and  quote  from  memory. 
This  method  is  no  longer  in  vogue  on  account  of  liability  to 
error.  In  autobiography  quotation  from  memory  is  some- 


I9g  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

times  employed  when  documents  are  not  at  hand.  Now  the 
documents  are  carefully  grouped  according  to  date,  second, 
according  to  origin;  third,  according  to  contents;  fourth,  ac- 
cording to  form.  In  this  way,  nothing  essential  is  missed ; 
all  the  facts  necessary  are  present  although  in  isolated  form. 
It  remains  to  organize  these  facts  into  a  biographical  syn- 
thesis. 

The  Various  Kinds  of  Documents  Consulted  by  the  Biogra- 
pher.—  The  biographer  finds  material  wherever  the  individual 
has  left  a  trace  of  his  life- record.  This  record  is  large  or 
small  according  to  the  prominence  of  the  individual  and  his 
rank  in  society.  Sometimes  the  life-record  will  involve  al- 
most all  departments  of  contemporary  literature ;  for  example, 
the  life  of  Napoleon,  Bismarck,  Leo  XIII.  Sometimes  the 
record  is  confined  to  a  small  village  or  state  and  all  the  in- 
formation obtainable  would  come  from  the  consultation  of  a 
few  documents.  The  immediate  sources  of  information  are 
six  in  number,  and  they  are  classified  as  follows :  First, 
Church  records  giving  information  as  to  place  and  time  of 
birth,  baptism  and  church  affiliation.  Second,  family  records, 
dealing  with  parentage,  ancestry,  family  connections,  social 
standing,  migrations,  family  possessions,  etc.  Third,  City 
and  State  records  showing  the  relation  of  the  individual  to 
civic  society;  the  business,  legal  and  political  relations  of  the 
citizen  to  the  State;  for  example,  transfer  of  property,  regis- 
trations for  office,  voting,  marriage,  death,  offices  held. 
Fourth,  contemporary  journals  containing  criticism  of  in- 
dividual acts;  the  opinions  of  contemporaries  regarding  indi- 
vidual conduct.  Fifth,  private  papers;  among  these  the  most 
important  are  diaries,  memoirs  and  the  letters  of  contem- 
poraries. Sixth,  the  published  works  throwing  light  upon 
character,  ability,  attainments.  Of  the  published  works  au- 
tograph letters  are  the  most  valuable,  as  a  revelation  of  charac- 


BIOGRAPHY 

ter.  Very  often,  in  the  case  of  public  or  literary  men  the  pub- 
lished works  will  contain  uu'tographical  matter  in  the  shape  of 
memoirs,  journals,  reminiscences.  These  documents  are  the 
usual  sources  of  information  regarding  individual  life.  But 
besides  these  there  are  other  and  more  remote  sources.  For 
example,  the  private  correspondence  and  the  published  works 
of  contemporaries;  opinions  of  associates  handed  down  by 
tradition;  records  left  in  monuments,  inscriptions,  medals,  in 
various  arts,  wherever  traces  of  human  life  are  preserved. 
The  extent  of  such  records  will  depend  upon  the  prominence 
of  the  person. 

The  Grouping  of  Facts  —  Order  of  Time.-1-  In  biography  it 
is  the  rule  to  follow  the  order  of  time,  or  what  is  known  as 
the  chronological  order.  This  is  done  without  difficulty  in 
the  case  of  individual  life;  whereas  many  difficulties  present 
themselves  when  the  story  of  collective  life  is  written.  The 
biographer  uses  each  year  as  a  central  point  for  organizing 
and  grouping  his  data ;  whereas  the  historian  must  constantly 
violate  the  order  of  time ;  he  must  go  back  constantly  in  order 
to  bring  up  the  details  of  his  historical  picture.  This  is  very 
remarkable  when  history  is  written  on  a  vast  scale.  For  ex- 
ample, Gibbon's  History  of  Rome.  The  biographer  having 
the  thread  of  only  one  individual  life  to  follow,  need  never 
violate  the  order  of  time.-  There  is  a  natural  development 
from  beginning  to  end. 

Order  of  Place. —  Besides  the  chronological  order,  there  is 
the  order  of  place.  Human  actions  always  involve  the  rela- 
tion of  place  as  well  as  time;  and  the  facts  of  biography  are 
arranged  so  as  to  correspond  to  the  place  where  as  well  as  the 
time  when  the  individual  lived.  This  order,  sometimes  called 
the  geographical  order,  makes  history  so  complex  owing  to 
the  various  centers  for  grouping  facts;  whereas,  in  biography 


200  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

it  is  subordinate  to  the  chronological  order,   and  makes  no 
trouble  whatever. 

Minor  Methods. —  There  are  minor  ways  of  grouping  facts 
outside  any  direct  consideration  of  space  or  time,  though 
dependent  on  both.  This  grouping  is  based  upon  the  four- 
fold activity  of  human  life.  First  in  the  physical  order:  this 
grouping  involves  all  questions  regarding  physical  appearance 
and  wellbeing;  geographical  or  artificial  environment  and  the 
physical  development  under  such  conditions.  This  grouping 
takes  place  at  various  times  in  the  progress  of  the  work.  A 
second  grouping  of  facts  will  involve  mental  activities,  the 
conditions  of  mental  life  and  growth,  natural  endowment  and 
the  various  ways  in  which  it  was  developed  and  expressed. 
A  third  grouping  involves  the  moral  life;  various  lines  of 
conduct  followed  in  relation  to  right  and  wrong  or  the 
claims  of  duty.  This  grouping  is  the  most  difficult  as  it 
involves  all  questions  of  character.  The  portrait  of  character 
must  emerge  from  this  group.  In  drawing  this  portrait, 
biographers  and  historians  have  committed  untold  crimes  by 
suppressing  facts,  by  ascribing  false  motives,  by  over-draw- 
ing positions,  by  interpreting  acts,  not  according  to  the  mind 
of  the  author,  but  according  to  the  whim  or  prejudice  of  the 
biographer.  Fourth,  grouping  of  facts  will  center  in  the  re- 
ligious life  of  the  individual,  and  will  include  all  matters  per- 
taining to  religion.  In  biography,  the  last  two  groups,  cen- 
tering in  morality  and  religion,  furnish  what  is  called  the 
higher  life  of  the  individual ;  and  the  writer  gives  them  the 
largest  space,  as  the  chief  value  of  this  kind  of  literature  is  to 
instruct  by  ethical  and  religious  example. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

BIOGRAPHY  (CONTINUED) 

Various  Kinds  of  Biography.—  Authors  of  biography  have 
selected  various  methods  of  describing  individual  life.  First 
of  all,  they  present  the  life-story  either  in  an  abbreviated  or 
a  complete  form.  The  abbreviated  form  covering  the  larger 
part  of  this  literature,  includes  many  subdivisions. 

The  Obituary. —  The  first  and  most  general  of  these 
divisions  is  the  obituary  notice,  which  contains  only  a  few 
facts,  such  as  the  time  of  birth  and  death,  the  place  where  the 
life  was  spent,  with  a  word  perhaps  about  the  occupation  and 
character  of  the  deceased.  The  majority  of  mankind  must  be 
satisfied  with  this- meager  account.  The  obituary  notice  is  a 
feature  of  all  modern  periodicals  from  the  lowest  to  the  high- 
est grade ;  for  example,  the  most  obscure  newspaper ;  Harper's 
Monthly  Magazine;  both  publish  this  kind  of  biography  in 
every  issue.  In  the  best  journals  it  is  given  the  title  of  Ne- 
crology. This  form  also  appears  in  dictionaries  of  biography 
where  the  editors,  as  a  rule,  are  compelled  to  treat  each  life  in 
the  briefest  possible  manner.  Each  modern  civilized  nation 
publishes  a  dictionary  of  National  Biography.  Besides  these 
National  works,  cities  and  towns  prepare  such  dictionaries, 
limiting  the  scope  to  their  own  districts  and  defraying  the  ex- 
pense from  city  funds.  For  example,  the  largest  cities  of  the 
United  States  have  all  made  provision  of  this  kind.  Various 
important  societies  in  Church  and  State  issue  such  publica- 
tions —  a  recent  work  issued  by  the  Masonic  Fraternity  gives 

20 1 


202  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

brief  lives  of  all  the  prominent  Masons  in  our  country,  from 
George  Washington  to  President  Roosevelt.  Religious 
Orders  in  the  Church  keep  such  records,  which  receive  the 
name  of  annals  or  chronicles.  This  was  the  method  of  writ- 
ing English  history  before  the  avowed  historian  appeared. 
For  example,  chronicles  of  Knight,  Holinshed,  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  chronicle,  the  chronicles  of  Monks.  The  Jesuits  use 
the  peculiar  title  "  Relations ;  "  their  dictionary  of  biographx 
has  been  frequently  edited,  and  Parkman  found  it  invaluable 
in  writing  of  the  Jesuit  martyrs  in  America.  These  annals  or 
chronicles  sometimes  extend  to  all  prominent  men  of  the  coun- 
try. For  example,  the  early  chronicles  kept  by  the  Religious 
Orders  in  England  were  national  in  scope  and  furnish  the 
basis  of  English  history  for  several  centuries.  The  best  of 
these  is  known  as  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle  • —  it  covers  the 
period  from  853-1154,  or  from  the  reign  of  Alfred  to  that  of 
Henry  II.  There  are  four  divisions  of  it,  corresponding  to 
the  four  Monastic  houses  which  were  engaged  in  its  compi- 
lation. It  was  kept  in  turn  by  the  Monks  of  Winchester, 
Mercia,  Abingdon  and  Northumbria.  It  supplies  biographical 
data  concerning  the  reigning  kings,  and  prelates  of  the 
Church,  with  some  meagre  account  of  the  various  wars  in 
which  the  Saxons  were  engaged.  Supplementary  to  this  is 
the  chronicle  kept  by  the  Monks  of  Glastonbury,  known  as  the 
Chronicle  of  St.  Neot;  and  another,  which  belongs  to  the 
Monks  of  Peterborough.  Besides  the  chronicles  furnished  by 
leading  Monasteries,  which  are  the  composite  works  of 
monks,  there  are  a  number  of  valuable  chronicles,  the  work  of 
individual  writers.  For  example,  the  Chronicle  of  Ingulphus, 
Abbot  of  Croyland  in  1075.  His  chronicle  extends  from  650 - 
1109,  but  it  is  chiefly  occupied  with  the  distinguished  men  of 
his  order.  Individual  authors  who  have  written  biographi- 
cal chronicles,  are  numerous  in  English  literature.  Besides 
Ingulphus,  there  are  two  well  known  examples :  First, 


BIOGRAPHY  203 

Mathew  Paris  1200-1 259.  He  was  a  Benedictine  Monk,  and 
a  graduate  of  the  University  of  Paris.  He  received-  the 
patronage  of  Henry  III,  who  requested  him  to  write  brief 
biographical  accounts  of  all  the  celebrated  men  then  living  in 
the  English  realm.  This  account  was  afterward  expanded 
by  him  into  a  dictionary  of  National  Biography,  and  included 
the  reigns  of  preceding  kings.  The  second  author,  Raphael 
Holinshed  (1577-1624)  under  orders  from  Queen  Elizabeth 
compiled  a  biography  similar  to  that  of  Matthew  Paris.  It  is 
much  larger  and  the  separate  biographies  are  more  elaborate. 
At  the  present  time  Biographical  Dictionaries  are  not  confined 
to  a  particular  class  or  nation.  Two  examples  of  this  cosmo- 
politan character :  the  French  Academy  has  recently  published 
a  Dictionary  of  Universal  Biography ;  all  the  distinguished 
men  of  the  world  are  given  a  place  in  it.  In  the  English  lan- 
guage our  best  Dictionary  of  Universal  Biography  is  pub- 
lished by  the  Century  Company,  New  York.  It  rs  much 
smaller  than  the  French  work,  consisting  only  of  one  large 
volume,  but  more  useful  because  more  easily  consulted. 

The  Eulogy. —  A  second  form  of  abridged  biography  is 
known  as  the  eulogy.  It  is  more  elaborate  than  the  obituary 
notice,  necrology  or  biographical  chronicle.  There  are  two 
classes  of  the  eulogy :  the  essay  which  appears  in  periodicals ; 
the  panegyric  prepared  for  delivery.  Both  kinds  of  eulogy 
appear  at  the  death  or  on  the  anniversary  of  the  individual. 
Both  present  the  life-record  in  some  detail,  but  both  have  this 
disadvantage :  the  eulogist  selects  only  those  facts  which  are 
worthy  of  praise  and  commendation;  the  justification  being 
that  only  favorable  things  should  be  said  concerning  the  dead. 
Hence,  the  abbreviated  and  one-sided  view  in  the  eulogy. 
This  is  particularly  true  of  the  national  or  religious  hero. 
For  example,  in  narrating  the  life  of  George  Washington,  our 
eulogists  will  never  refer  to  the  fact  that  he  was  rarely  seen 


• 


at  public  worship  and  tliat  he  was  inclined  to  adopt  a  rather 
liberal  moral  standard.  Or  take  the  example  of  Pius  IX: 
our  eulogists  remember  all  his  saintly  virtues,  but  omit  any 
reference  to  the  lack  of  statesmanship  and  his  -carelessness  as 
a  Temporal  Ruler.  The  eulogist  in  the  essay  or  panegyric  is 
always  a  friend  and  special  pleader;  and  hence  this  species  of 
biography  is  very  misleading  and  unreliable.  But  there  is  one 
advantage  derived  from  a  study  of  it,  its  method  of  con- 
densation —  it  crowds  the  largest  number  of  facts  into  the 
smallest  compass,  giving  a  rapid  survey  of  a  life  with  the 
omission  of  useless  details. 

Importance. — The  eulogy,  whether  written  or  delivered,  oc- 
cupies a  large  place  in  English  literature.  Our  leading  essay- 
ists and  orators  almost  without  exception,  have  left  examples 
of  it.  And  its  misleading  character  as  to  the  individuals 
treated,  does  not  impair  its  literary  value.  On  the  contrary,  it 
is  always  considered  a  specimen  of  fine  writing;  the  orator  or 
essayist  doing  his  very  best  for  the  person  whom  he  sets  out 
to  praise.  Three  examples  of  the  written  eulogy :  First,  the 
essay  on  Saint  John  Chrysostom  by  Cardinal  Newman. 
Second,  the  Eulogy  on  Shakespeare  by  James  Russell  Lowell. 
Third,  the  Eulogy  on  Napoleon  by  Channing.  Three  ex- 
amples of  the  eulogy  in  the  form  of  a  panegyric :  First,  the 
the  panegyric  on  O'Connell  by  Wendel  Phillips.  Second, 
the  panegyric  on  Washington  by  Edward  Everett.  Third,  the 
panegyric  on  Jefferson  and  Adams  by  Daniel  Webster.  The 
eulogy  will  always  remain  popular  for  two  reasons :  first,  be- 
cause it  deals  with  persons  and  presents  biography  in  a  most 
pleasing  form ;  secondly,  because  it  gratifies  a  universal  appetite 
for  hero-worship. 

The  Diatribe  and  Philippic.— The  eulogy  presents  the 
bright  side  of  human  life.  There  is  a  class  of  literature. 


BIOGRAPHY  205 

biographical  in  character,  which  presents  the  darker  side. 
Various  names  are  applied  according  to  the  degree  of  preju- 
dice or  hatred  shown  by  the  author.  Thus,  we  have  opposed 
to  the  eulogy,  the  diatribe,  the  libel,  the  satire.  And  opposed 
to  the  panegyric  we  have  the  philippic,  or  when  the  orator 
becomes  violently  partisan  we  have  the  tirade.  These  titles 
indicate  the  varying  degrees  of  human  hate  or  prejudice. 
Owing  to  intense  party  strife,  freedom  of  the  press,  and  free- 
dom of  speech,  we  have  an  abundance  of  this  literature  con- 
nected with  the  great  names  in  English  history.  Most  of  this 
work  is  ephemeral,  dying  with  the  passions  of  the  hour.  But 
a  percentage  of  it  is  permanent,  owing  to  the  literary  skill  of 
the  author.  For  example:  The  satires  of  Swift  or  Junius; 
the  philippics  of  Edmund  Burke. 

The  Critique. —  Between  these  extremes  of  the  eulogy  and 
the  philippic  there  is  a  class  of  literature  in  which  the  authors 
avoid  the  extremes  of  love  and  hatred ;  they  attempt  to  give  a 
fair,  impartial  account  of  life  and  character.  This  literature 
appears  in  our  best  reviews  and  periodicals.  It  is  commonly 
called  a  critique  or  essay  in  criticism.  Like  all  abridged  biog- 
raphy, it  summarizes  the  main  facts  of  the  life,  and  bases  a 
critical  opinion  upon  this  summary.  The  leading  quarterly 
and  monthly  magazines  publish  this  kind  of  biography  in  every 
issue.  The  essay  in  criticism  is  found  not  only  in  quarterly 
magazines,  but  also  as  prefaces  to  books.  The  prefatory 
sketch  of  the  author's  life  is  accompanied  by  a  criticism  of  the 
work  to  which  it  forms  an  introduction.  A  more  elaborate 
essay  with  an  effort  to  be  absolutely  fair  in  criticism  is  found 
in  encyclopedias  where  large  numbers  of  these  brief  lives  are 
published.  For  example,  according  to  the  announcement  of 
the  editors,  the  Encyclopedia  Brittannica  contains  abridged 
biographies  of  27,000  persons  of  all  ages,  races,  and  ranks  in 


206  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

society.  The  American,  National,  and  Chambers'  Encyclo- 
pedias contain  perhaps  an  equal  number. 

Biographical  Critics. —  The  professional  critic  as  represented 

in  quarterly  magazines,  encyclopedias  and  elsewhere,  com- 
bines biography  with  criticism.  This  example  was  set  by  John 
Dryden  in  the  prefaces  to  his  edition  of  the  Shakespearean 
plays.  Dryden  introduced  the  essay,  one-half  of  which  was 
devoted  to  biography  and  the  other  half  to  criticism  —  a 
method  faithfully  followed  ever  since  his  day  in  what  is  termed 
the  essay  in  criticism.  Samuel  Johnson  employed  the  same 
method  in  his  lives  of  the  English  poets.  Francis  Jeffrey,  the 
Founder  of  the  Edinburgh  Review  and  its  professional  critic 
for  twenty-six  years,  followed  the  same  plan.  Throughout 
the  four  large  volumes  of  criticism  left  by  Jeffrey,  it  is  the  uni- 
form rule  to  give  a  biographical  summary  first,  and  criticism 
afterward.  Lord  Macaulay,  who  was  a  contributor  to  the 
Review,  followed  the  example  of  the  editor.  The  latest  pro- 
fessional critic  in  English  is  Matthew  Arnold,  who  left  twelve 
volumes  of  prose,  a  large  amount  of  which  represents  collected 
prefaces  he  wrote  for  the  publishers  of  English  classics.  In 
the  absence  of  any  large  or  influential  school  of  criticism,  like 
the  French  Academy,  we  have  depended  upon  individual  au- 
thority. Hence,  Dryden  in  his  day  made  and  unmade  literary 
reputations ;  the  same  remark  applies  to  such  critics  as  Jeffrey, 
Macaulay,  Johnson. 

Private  Papers. —  Abridged  biography  sometimes  takes  the 
form  of  private  journals,  diaries,  memoirs  and  letters.  All 
these  divisions  come  under  the  general  head  of  private  pa- 
pers. These  papers  are  autobiographical  in  character;  they 
deal  with  particular  periods  or  noteworthy  incidents  and  rem- 
iniscences of  the  author's  life.  However  numerous,  these 
papers  do  not  present  a  full  biography ;  they  are  at  best  only  de- 


BIOGRAPHY  207 

tached  fragments.  But  they  give  valuable  information  and 
help  to  interpret  the  life-record.  In  most  cases  the  author  of 
a  complete  biography  relies  upon  the  private  papers  for  a  con- 
firmation of  his  statements  regarding  conduct  and- character ; 
these  papers  are  quoted  continually ;  there  is  no  other  evidence 
so  direct  or  convincing.  One  recent  illustration :  when  Pur- 
cell  charges  Cardinal  Manning  with  jealousy  and  spite  toward 
Newman,  he  publishes  fully  a  dozen  letters  written  by  ftTan- 
ning;  and  these  letters  leave  no  doubt  in  the  reader's  mind  ;  for 
"tfiey  prove  that  Manning  used  all  his  influence  at  Rome  to 
keep  Newman  from  the  Cardinalate.  These  letters  are  a  reve- 
lation of  Manning's  character  A  large  number  of  private  pa- 
pers receive  the  title  of  memoirs.  Sometimes  .they  are  called 
recollections  or  reminiscences.  For  example:  The  Recol- 
lections of  an  M.  P.,  recently  written.  They  are  so  named  be- 
cause as  a  rule  they  are  written  at  the  close  of  life  when  its 
labors  and  experiences  may  be  calmly  surveyed.  Under  these 
circumstances,  we  have  the  memoirs  of  Hume,  Dryden,  Gibbon, 
Carlyle.  On  the  other  hand,  journals  or  diaries  are  kept  dur- 
ing the  period  of  active  life;  they  bear  the  dates  on  which  ev- 
ery fresh  incident  or  reminiscence  is  chronicled.  But  like 
memoirs,  they  are  only  valuable  fragments  or  partial  views  of 
the  life-record. 

The  Private  Journal. —  The  private  journal  was  first  kept 
by  members  of  the  various  courts  of  Europe.  It  was  the  usual 
court  practice  during  the  Middle  Ages.  Each  prince  kept  a 
private  journal.  On  this  point  Lord  Bacon  remarks  in  the 
Advancement  of  Learning:  "Princes  hath,  upon  point  of 
honor  and  policy,  both,  journals  kept  of  what  had  passed  day 
by  day."  These  journals  were  filled  with  court  gossip,  the 
exchange  of  royal  visits,  the  social  events  and  functions.  They 
had  little  literary  merit,  and  were  never  published.  From  the 
court  the  custom  spread  to  the  nobility  and  to  the  officials  of 


208  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

the  Church.  Then  the  private  journal  began  to  be  of  some  use. 
It  was  elaborated  by  such  writers  as  Madam  De  Stael,  Mon- 
taigne, Fenelon.  In  England  it  was  in  general  use  during  the 
age  of  Alexander  Pope.  He  refers  in  the  Dunciad  to  his  age 
of  "  Journals,  Medleys,  Mercies,  Magazines."  And  the  im- 
plication is  that  it  contained  little  literary  merit.  Private 
journals  were  kept  by  missionaries  and  travelers  ever  since 
the  beginning  of  the  era  of  discovery  in  the  fifteenth  century. 
For  example,  much  of  the  biography  of  St.  Francis  Xavier  is 
known  from  a  private  journal  which  he  kept  in  India  and 
China.  The  biography  of  Columbus  depends  upon  a  journal 
which  he  wrote  during  his  voyages  to  America,  as  it  was  neces- 
sary to  keep  a  private  journal  in  order  to  give  a  true  account  of 
his  travels  to  the  home  government.  The  private  journal  in- 
volving travel  and  exploration  yields  the  most  attractive  ma- 
terial owing  to  incident  and  adventure.  Some  modern  exam- 
ples :  The  private  journal  kept  by  Livingstone  while  exploring 
South  Africa ;  the  recent  visit  of  George  Kennan  to  Siberia,  of 
Nansen  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  Pole.  These  journals  have 
been  expanded  into  books  of  travel  which  are  now  general  fa- 
vorites. At  the  present  time  there  is  a  tendency  to  publish  these 
autobiographical  fragments,  journals  and  memoirs  without 
weaving  them  into  a  formal  life  story.  And  there  is  no  class 
of  literature  more  popular  than  the  journal  of  Amiel  translated 
recently  by  Mrs.  Humphrey  Ward ;  the  journal  of  Maria  Bas- 
kertsief,  the  Russian  artist;  or  the  diary  of  the  Opium  Eater 
by  Thomas  De  Quincey. 

Memoirs  and  Letters.— Among  private  papers  the  memoir 
and  the  letter  are  highly  valuable  for  purposes  of  biography. 
No  biography  is  now  compiled  without  including  them,  provid- 
ing they  may  be  obtained.  The  memoir  is  an  essay  dealing 
with  some  important  event,  incident  or  experience.  As  there 
are  many  such  events  in  a  lifetime,  a  number  of  these  papers  are 


BIOGRAPHY  269 

written,  and  the  plural  form  of  the  word  is  used.  Memoirs 
may  be  as  numerous  as  private  letters.  For  example,  the  mem- 
oirs of  Lord  Nelson  just  published  form  two  volumes.  Mem- 
oirs, like  private  journals,  are  autobiographical ;  an  exception  to 
this  rule  occurs  when  an  author  writes  of  an  intimate  personal 
friend;  but  in  such  cases  the  author  plays  some  part  in  the 
reminiscence.  For  example,  in  the  memoirs  of  Napoleon  writ- 
ten by  Talleyrand  the  author  is  a  factor  in  what  he  describes. 
Memoirs  are  now  published  in  separate  volumes ;  as  views  of 
life  they  are  disconnected  and  fragmentary,  and  should  be  read 
in  connection  with  a  larger  and  more  complete  narrative.  The 
reason  for  their  present  popularity  is  the  fact  that  they  treat  of 
the  more  important  and  interesting  events,  leaving  out  all  the 
minor  details.  Every  rank  of  society  now  publishes  memoirs. 
Some  recent  examples  in  the  United  States :  in  the  army,  the 
memoirs  of  Sheridan,  Grant,  Sherman ;  in  the  navy,  the  mem- 
oirs of  Captain  Mahan ;  in  the  Church,  the  memoirs  of  Edward 
E.  Hale  and  Archbishop  Spaulding.  Among  American  men  of 
letters,  the  memoirs  of  Poe,  Bryant,  Longfellow.  Among  Am- 
erican statesmen,  the  memoirs  of  Franklin,  Marshall,  and  Lin- 
coln. The  publication  of  letters  is  now  equally  general.  The 
very  latest  are  those  of  Carlyle,  Arnold,  the  correspondence  of 
our  colonial  Governors ;  the  letters  written  to  Washington,  now 
issued  in  five  volumes. 

Class  Biography. —  Abridged  biography  sometimes  deals 
with  certain  classes  of  society,  persons  of  the  same  calling  or 
profession.  The  number  of  persons  thus  included,  compels  the 
biographer  to  be  brief;  and  this  kind  of  writing  is  called  class 
biography.  Class  biography  although  abbreviated,  is  far  more 
elaborate  than  necrology,  biographical  essays  or  private  pa- 
pers. It  is  the  nearest  approach  that  we  have  in  abridged  bi- 
ography to  the  complete  life-record  of  the  individual.  It  aims 
at  giving  a  connected  account  of  the  chief  events,  and  these  are 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

unified  by  the  particular  calling  or  profession  which  is  kept 
constantly  in  view. 

Examples. —  The  example  of  writing  class  biography  was  set 
by  Plutarch  in  the  first  century  of  the  Christian  era.  He  se- 
lected forty-six  celebrated  men  from  Greek  and  Roman  his- 
tory, and  wrote  their  biographies  by  pairs  according  to  their 
profession  or  calling.  Thus  he  pairs  off  Csesar  and  Alexander ; 
Cicero  and  Demosthenes ;  Solon  and  Valerius ;  and  so  on  down 
the  list  of  celebrities  and  professions.  Hence,  his  work  is 
sometimes  called  Parallel  Lives.  These  lives  are  works  of 
great  learning  and  research ;  and  they  are  written  at  consider- 
able length.  They  have  been  translated  and  frequently  imi- 
tated, and  the  imitation  of  them  has  given  us  class  biography. 

English  Imitators. —  The  earliest  imitator  of  Plutarch 
among  English  authors  was  John  Bale,  a  Protestant  Bishop  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  who  wrote  a  series  of  lives ;  taking  for  his 
subject  the  illustrious  authors  of  England.  The  work  was 
written  in  Latin,  but  has  since  been  translated.  A  second  ex- 
ample of  the  1 7th  century  is  Isaak  Walton.  Walton  wrote  the 
lives  of  Anglican  divines.  The  series  is  incomplete,  but  the 
work  is  a  good  example  of  class-biography.  A  more  repre- 
sentative w^ork  than  either  of  these  is  the  "  Lives  of  the  Poets/' 
written  by  Samuel  Johnson  in  the  eighteenth  century.  This 
work  written  in  ten  small  volumes  appeared  in  1781.  These 
lives  of  the  poets  are,  on  the  whole,  the  best  of  Johnson's 
v.  orks ;  the  narratives  are  as  entertaining  as  any  novel ;  the  re- 
marks on  life  and  on  human  nature  are  eminently  shrewd  and 
profound.  The  criticism  contained  in  the  work  is  the  judg- 
ment of  a  mind  vigorous  and  acute.  A  class-biography  irr  im- 
itation of  Plutarch  was  written  by  Hartley  Coleridge,  son  of 
Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  in  1832.  It  is  called  "  Lives  of 
Northern  Worthies,"  and  deals  with  the  celebrated  men  of 
Great  Britain.  These  lives  were  written  as  essays  for  Black- 


BIOGRAPHY  211 

wood's  Magazine;  afterward,  they  were  enlarged  and  pub- 
lished in  volume  form.  The  prose  style  of  Coleridge,  lively 
and  brilliant,  is  better  adapted  to  biography  than  the  lumbering 
style  of  Johnson.  In  religion,  we  have  a  large  number  of  class- 
biographies.  Three  noted  examples:  First,  the  lives  of  Eng- 
lish  martyrs  by  John  Foxe,  who  lived  during  the  reign  of 
yueen  Elizabeth.  This  work  deals  with  the  Protestant  mar- 
tyrs who  died  during  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary.  Second,  Al- 
ban  Butler,  born  at  Northampton,  England,  1711  ;  died  in  St. 
Omer's,  France,  in  1773.  Published  the  Lives  of  the  Saints, 
a  class-biography  based  upon  the  Acta  Sanctorum.  The  work 
is  reliable  as  to  facts ;  but  the  matter  is  poorly  arranged  and  the 
style  is  unattractive.  This  work  has  had  a  wide  circulation  be- 
cause it  has  no  competitors  in  English.  Third,  Walter  Far- 
quhar  Hook —  1798-1875.  He  wrote  two  important  works: 
a  dictionary  of  ecclesiastical  biography  and  the  "  Lives  of 
the  Archbishops  of  Canterbury  " —  the  latter  running  through 
14  volumes.  Hook  is  a  trustworthy  biographer  and  he  had  ac- 
cess to  all  the  materials. 

Some  Recent  and  Valuable  Sets  of  Class-Biography. —  The 
Lives  of  the  Saints,  edited  by  S.  Baring  Gould,  an  English 
clergyman  of  the  Established  Church.  This  series  was  begun 
1872 ;  is  not  yet  completed.  The  Beacon  Lights  of  History,  a 
series  of  the  world's  most  distinguished  men,  written  by  John 
Lord  and  published  in  fifteen  volumes.  Lives  of  the  Popes, 
a  series  in  course  of  preparation ;  six  volumes  finished,  written 
by  Ludwig  Pastor,  translated  into  English.  Lives  of  Emi- 
nent Philosophers,  a  series  of  fifteen  volumes,  edited  by  Wil- 
liam Knight,  Professor  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  the  University 
of  St.  Andrews.  English  Men  of  Letters,  a  series  edited  by 
John  Morley,  forty-two  volumes  finished ;  others  in  course  of 
preparation.  American  Men  of  Letters,  series  edited  by 
Charles  Dudley  Warner.  It  has  reached  the  fourteenth  vol- 


212  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

time.  Lives  of  American  Statesmen,  edited  by  John  T.  Morse, 
twenty-eight  volumes  completed;  series  unfinished.  Lives  of 
Eminent  British  Statesmen  by  John  Morley,  twelve  volumes. 
Lives  of  Great  Commanders,  a  series  edited  by  General  James 
Grant  Wilson ;  eighteen  volumes  have  appeared ;  series  not  yet 
completed.  Lives  of  Great  Artists,  collected  and  edited  by 
Frederick  G.  Stephens ;  thirty-nine  volumes. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
BIOGRAPHY  (CONCLUDED) 

Complete  Biography.— Complete  biography  deals  with  in- 
dividual life  in  the  most  satisfactory  manner.  It  aims  at  fur- 
nishing a  complete  life-record ;  and  to  that  end  employs  necrolo- 
gies, eulogies,  memoirs,  letters,  and  whatever  else  may  throw 
light  upon  the  person's  career.  It  supplies  an  amount  of  detail 
omitted  in  partial  biographies.  The  author  of  such  biography 
has  access  to  Church,  State  and  private  papers ;  and  quotes  at 
considerable  length  the  opiniqns  of  contemporaries.  The  pub- 
lication is  not  hurried,  as  is  often  the  case  in  class-biography ; 
plenty  of  time  is  taken  to  collect  and  sift  the  material ;  so  that 
a  complete  biography  often  takes  several  years  in  the  prepara- 
tion for  the  press.  For  example,  John  Morley  has  spent  several 
years  on  his  Life  of  Gladstone  just  published.  Carlyle  spent 
three  years,  and  made  several  trips  to  Germany  in  his  prepara- 
tion of  the  Life  of  Frederick  the  Great. 

Classification. —  Complete  biography  is  classified  in  various 
ways.  On  the  part  of  authorship  it  is  divided  into  three 
classes.  It  is  written  either  by  the  author  himself  or  by  an- 
other, or  by  several  others  In  the  first  case  we  have  an  auto- 
biography. For  example,  the  Apologia  of  Newman ;  in  the 
second  case,  individual  biography.  For  example:  the  Life  of 
Christ  by  Geike;  in  the  third  case  we  have  composite  biogra- 
phy: for  example,  the  Life  of  Lincoln  by  his  secretaries,  Nico- 
lay  and  Hay.  Of  these  three  classes,  autobiography  is  the 
most  satisfactory.  The  author  knows  best  where  to  get 

213 


2I4  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

materials  relative  to  his  own  life.  He  knows  best  the  motives 
which  have  governed  his  own  life  and  conduct.  He  should 
be  the  best  interpreter  of  his  own  acts.  Composite  biography 
is  usually  written  by  me'mbers  of  religious  orders  or  by  socie- 
ties. Biography  is  produced  in  this  way:  for  example,  the 
lives  and  deeds  of  the  Saints  by  the  Bollandists.  Often  a 
composite  biography  is  written  by  the  family  of  the  deceased. 
A  recent  example:  the  life  of  Huxley  by  his,  wife  and  son. 
The  arriount  of  this  literature  is  comparatively  small.  Biogra- 
phy, as  a  rule,  is  written  by  a  single  author. 

Examples  of  Representative  Biographers. —  Some  recent  and 
select  examples  of  biographical  writing:  The' Life  of  Thomas 
Arnold  by  Dean  Stanley.  Stanley  was  private  chaplain  of 
Queen  Victoria,  dean  of  Westminster,  and  historian  and  theo- 
logian. As  an  historian  he.  wrote  memorials  of  Canterbury 
and  a  history  of  Westminster  Abbey;  essays  on  the  Jewish 
Church  and  the  Apostolic  Age.  As  a  theologian  his  chief 
works  are  "  The  Relations  of  Church  and  State,"  a  study  of 
Presbyterianism.  Dr.  Arnold,  the  subject  of  his  biography, 
lived  from-  1795  to.  1842.  He  was  a  noted  English  educator, 
head  master  of  Rugby;  the  father  of  Matthew  and  Thomas 
Arnold,  both  celebrated  in  English  literature;  professor  of 
Modern  History  in  Oxford,  1841.  His  historical  works  are 
Lectures  on  Modern  History,  History  of  Rome.  A  second 
example:  The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson  by  James  Boswell  — • 
the  most  widely  known  and  best  written  biography  in  English. 
A  word  about  the  author:  Boswell  was  born  at  Edinburgh 
in  1740;  died  at  London  in  1795;  a  lawyer  by  profession;  an 
intimate  friend  and  companion  of  Johnson  for  twenty  years, 
and,  as  he  writes  in  the  preface,  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
the  story  of  Johnson's  life.  A  word  about  the  work:  The 
author  makes  use  of  all  the  sources  from  which  data  could  be 
secured.  The  private  papers  and  correspondence  of  Johnson 


BIOGRAPHY  215 

were  voluminous,  as  he  was  the  leading  litterateur  of  his  age; 
besides  the  material  which  was  turned  over  to  him,  Roswell 
makes  use  of  his  perosnal  knowledge  of  the  man,  anecdotes, 
conversations  and  personal  recollections.  On  the  value  of  this 
supplementary  knowledge  Boswell  writes  as  follows:  "  What 
I  consider  as  the  peculiar  value  of  my  work  is  the  quantity  it 
contains  of  Johnson's  conversations."  On  this  careful  prepa- 
ration of  the  materials,  Boswell  writes : 

"  The  labor  and  anxious  attention  with  which  I  have  collected 
and  arranged  the  materials  of  this  biography  will  hardly  be  con- 
ceived by  those  who  read  it  with  careless  facility.  Were  I  to 
detail  the  books  and  papers  which  I  have  consulted,  and  the  in- 
quiries which  I  have  found  it  necessary  to  make  by  various  chan- 
nels, I  should  probably  be  thought  ridiculously  ostentatious.  But 
I  will  not  suppress  my  satisfaction  in  the  consciousness  that  by 
recording  the  life  of  the  'brightest  ornament  of  the  i8th  cen- 
tury,' I  have  largely  provided  for  the  instruction  and  entertain- 
ment of  mankind." 

The  following  excerpts  from  the  introduction  to  Johnson's 
Life  written  by  Boswell,  will  throw  light  on  the  biographer's 
method : 

"  To  write  the  life  of  him  who  excelled  all  mankind  in  writing 
the  lives  of  others,  and  who,  whether  we  consider  his  extraor- 
dinary endowments,  or  his  various  works,  has  been  equalled  by 
few  in  any  age,  is  an  arduous,  and  may  be  reckoned  in  me  a 
presumptuous  task.  Had  Dr.  Johnson  written  his  own  life,  in 
conformity  with  the  opinion  which  he  has  given,  that  every  man's 
life  may  be  best  written  by  himself;  had  he  employed  in  the 
preservation  of  his  own  history,  that  clearness  of  narration  and 
elegance  of  language  in  which  he  has  embalmed  so  many  eminent 
persons,  the  world  would  probably  have  had  the  most  perfect  ex- 
ample of  biography  that  was  ever  exhibited.  But  although  he 
at  different  times,  in  a  desultory  manner,  committed  to  writing 
many  particulars  of  the  progress  of  his  mind  and  fortunes,  he 
never  had  persevering  diligence  enough  to  form  them  into  a 


2I6  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

regular  composition.  Of  these  memorials  a  few  have  been  pre- 
served; but  the  greater  part  was  consigned  by  him  to  the  flames, 
a  few  days  before  his  death.  As  I  had  the  honor  and  happiness 
of  enjoying  his  friendship  for  upwards  of  twenty  years;  as  I  had 
the  scheme  of  writing  his  life  constantly  in  view ;  as  he  was  well 
apprised  of  this  circumstance  and  from  time  to  time  obligingly 
satisfied  my  inquiries,  by  communicating  to  me  the  incidents  of 
his  early  years ;  as  I  acquired  a  facility  in  recollecting,  and  was 
very  assiduous  in  recording,  his  conversation,  of  which  the  ex- 
traordinary vigor  and  vivacity  constituted  one  of  the  first  fea- 
tures of  his  character ;  and  as  I  have  spared  no  pains  in  obtain- 
ing materials  concerning  him,  from  every  quarter  where  I  could 
discover  that  they  were  to  be  found,  and  have  been  favored  with 
the  most  liberal  communications  by  his  friends ;  I  flatter  myself 
that  few  biographers  have  entered  upon  such  a  work  as  this  with 
more  advantages,  independent  of  literary  abilities,  in  which  I  am 
not  vain  enough  to  compare  myself  with  some  great  names  who 
have  gone  before  me  in  this  kind  of  writing.  Instead  of  melting 
down  my  materials  into  one  mass,  and  constantly  speaking  in 
my  own  person,  by  which  I  might  have  appeared  to  have  more 
merit  in  the  execution  of  the  work,  I  have  resolved  to  adopt  and 
enlarge  upon  the  excellent  plan  of  Mr.  Mason,  in  his  Memoirs 
of  Gray.  Wherever  narrative  is  necessary  to  explain,  connect 
and  supply,  I  furnish  it  to  the  best  of  my  abilities;  but  in  the 
chronological  series  of  Johnson's  life,  which  I  trace  as  distinctly 
as  I  can  year  by  year,  I  produce,  wherever  it  is  in  my  power,  his 
own  minutes,  letters  or  conversation,  being  convinced  that  this 
mode  is  more  lively,  and  will  make  my  readers  better  acquainted 
with  him,  that  even  most  of  those  were  who  actually  knew  him, 
but  could  know  him  only  partially;  whereas  there  is  here  an  ac- 
cumulation of  intelligence  from  various  points,  by  which  his  char- 
acter is  more  fully  understood  and  illustrated.  Indeed,  I  cannot 
conceive  a  more  perfect  mode  of  writing  any  man's  life,  than 
not  only  relating  all  the  most  important  events  of  it  in  their 
order,  but  interweaving  what  he  privately  wrote,  and  said  and 
thought ;  by  which  mankind  are  enabled  as  it  were  to  see  him  live, 
and  to  '  live  o'er  each  scene '  with  him,  as  he  actually  advanced 
through  the  different  stages  of  his  life.  Had  his  other  friends 
been  as  diligent  and  ardent  as  I  was,  he  might  have  been  almost 
entirely  preserved.  As  it  is,  I  will  venture  to  say  that  he  will 


BIOGRAPHY  2i; 

be  seen  in  this  work  more  completely  than  any  man  who  has 
ever  yet  lived.  And  he  will  be  seen  as  he  really  was ;  for  I  pro- 
fess to  write,  not  his  panegyric,  which  must  be  all  praise,  but  his 
Life ;  which,  great  and  good  as  he  was,  must  not  be  supposed  to 
be  entirely  perfect.  To  be  as  he  was,  is  indeed  subject  of  pane- 
gyric enough  to  any  man  in  this  state  of  being;  but  in  every 
picture  there  should  be  shade  as  well  as  light,  and  when  I  deline- 
ate him  without  reserve,  I  do  what  he  himself  recommended,  both 
by  his  precept  and  example.  If  the  biographer  writes  from  per- 
sonal knowledge,  and  makes  haste  to  gratify  the  public  curiosity, 
there  is  danger  lest  his  interest,  his  fear,  his  gratitude,  or  his 
tenderness,  overpower  his  fidelity,  and  tempt  him  to  conceal,  if 
not  invent.  There  are  many  who  think  it  an  act  of  piety  to  hide 
the  faults  or  failings  of  their  friends,  even  when  they  can  no 
longer  suffer  by  their  detection ;  we  therefore  see  whole  ranks  of 
characters  adorned  with  uniform  panegyric,  and  not  to  be  known 
from  one  another  but  by  extrinsic  and  casual  circumstances. 
'  Let  me  remember/  says  Hale,  '  when  I  find  myself  inclined  to 
pity  a  criminal,  that  there  is  likewise  a  pity  due  to  the  country/ 
If  we  owe  regard  to  the  memory  of  the  dead,  there  is  yet  more 
respect  to  be  paid  to  knowledge,  to  virtue  and  to  truth.  On  this 
subject  Plutarch  writes :  '  Nor  is  it  always  in  the  most  dis- 
tinguished achievements  that  men's  virtues  or  vices  may  be  best 
discerned ;  but  very  often  an  action  of  small  note,  a  short  saying 
or  a  jest,  shall  distinguish  a  person's  real  character  more  than 
the  greatest  sieges  or  the  most  important  battles/  ' 

Boswell  continues : 

"  To  this  may  be  added  the  sentiments  of  the  very  man  whose 
life  I  am  about  to  exhibit.  The  business  of  the  biographer  is 
often  to  pass  slightly  over  those  performances  and  incidents  which 
produce  vulgar  greatness  to  lead  the  thoughts  into  domestic  pri- 
vacies, and  display  the  minute  details  of  daily  life,  where  exterior 
appendages  are  cast  aside,  and  men  excel  each  other  only  by 
prudence  and  by  virtue.  The  account  -of  Thuanus  is  with  great 
propriety  said  by  its  author  to  have  been  written  that  it  might 
lay  open  to  posterity  the  private  and  familiar  character  of  that 
man,  cujus  ingenium  et  candorem  ex  ipsius  scriptis  sunt  olim  sem- 
per miraturi, —  whose  candor  and  genius  will  to  the  end  of  time  be 


2Ig  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

by  his  writings  preserved  in  admiration.  There  are  many  invisi- 
ble circumstances,  which,  whether  we  read  as  inquirers  after 
natural  or  moral  knowledge,  whether  we  intend  to  enlarge  our  sci- 
ence or  increase  our  virtue,  are  more  important  than  public  oc- 
currences. Thus  Sallust,  the  great  master  of  nature,  has  not  for- 
got in  his  account  of  Catiline,  to  remark,  that  his  walk  was  now 
quick,  and  again  slow,  as  an  indication  of  a  mind  revolving  with 
violent  commotion.  Thus,  the  story  of  Melancthon  affords  a 
striking  lecture  on  the  value  of  time,  by  informing  us  that  when 
he  had  made  an  appointment,  he  expected  not  only  the  hour  but 
the  minute  to  be  fixed,  that  the  day  might  not  run  out  in  the  idle- 
ness of  suspense;  and  all  the  plans  and  enterprises  of  De  Witt 
are  now  of  less  importance  to  the  world  than  that  part  of  his 
personal  character,  which  represents  him  as  careful  of  his  health, 
and  negligent  of  his  life.  But  biography  has  often  been  allotted 
to  writers  who  seem  very  little  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  their 
task,  or  very  negligent  about  the  performance.  They  rarely 
afford  any  other  account  than  might  be  collected  from  public 
papers,  but  imagine  themselves  writing  a  life,  when  they  exhibit 
a  chronological  series  of  actions  or  preferments ;  and  have  so  little 
regard  to  the  manner  or  behaviour  of  their  heroes,  that  more 
knowledge  may  be  gained  of  a  man's  real  character  by  a  short 
conversation  with  one  of  his  servants  than  from  a  formal  and 
studied  narrative,  begun  with  his  pedigree  and  ended  with  his 
funeral.  There  are,  indeed,  some  natural  reasons  why  these  nar- 
ratives are  often  written  by  such  as  were  not  likely  to  give  much 
instruction  or  delight,  and  why  most  accounts  of  particular  per- 
sons are  barren  and  useless.  If  a  life  be  delayed  until  interest 
and  envy  are  at  an  end,  we  may  hope  for  impartiality,  but  must 
expect  little  intelligence ;  for  the  incidents  which  give  excellence 
to  biography  are  of  a  volatile  and  evanescent  kind,  such  as  soon 
escape  the  memory,  and  are  rarely  transmitted  by  tradition.  We 
know  how  few  can  portray  a  living  acquaintance,  except  by  its 
most  prominent  and  observable  particularities,  and  the  grosser 
features  of  his  mind ;  and  it  may  be  easily  imagined  how  much 
of  this  little  knowledge  may  be  lost  in  imparting  it,  and  how  soon 
a  succession  of  copies  will  lose  all  resemblance  of  the  original." 
(Rambler,  No.  60.) 


BIOGRAPHY  219 

Bosvvell  goes  on  to  say : 

"  I  am  fully  aware  of  the  objections  which  may  be  made  to 
the  minuteness  on  some  occasions  of  my  detail  of  Johnson's  con- 
versation, and  how  happily  it  is  adapted  for  the  petty  exercise  of 
ridicule  by  men  of  superficial  understanding-  and  ludicrous  fancy : 
but  I  remain  firm  and  confident  in  my  opinion,  that  minute  par- 
ticulars are  frequently  characteristic,  and  always  amusing,  when 
they  relate  to  a  distinguished  man.  I  am,  therefore,  exceedingly 
unwilling  that  anything,  however  slight,  which  my  illustrious 
friend  thought  it  worth  his  while  to  express,  with  any  degree  of 
point,  should  perish.  For  this  almost  superstitious  reverence  I 
have  found  very  old  and  venerable  authority,  quoted  by  our  great 
modern  Prelate,  Seeker,  in  whose  tenth  sermon  there  is  the  fol- 
lowing passage :  '  Rabbi  David  Kimchi,  a  noted  Jewish  com- 
mentator, who  lived  about  five  hundred  years  ago,  explains  that 
passage  in  the  first  Psalm,  *  His  leaf  also  shall  not  wither,'  from 
Rabbis  yet  older  than  himself,  thus :  That  '  even  the  idle  talk,' 
so  he  expresses  it,  '  of  a  good  man  ought  to  be  regarded ; '  the 
most  superfluous  things  he  saith  are  always  of  some  value.  And 
other  ancient  authors  have  the  same  phrase,  nearly  in  the  same 
sense.'  Of  one  thing  I  am  certain,  that  considering  how  highly 
the  small  portion  which  we  have  of  the  table-talk  and  other  anec- 
dotes of  our  celebrated  writers  is  valued,  and  how  earnestly  it  is 
regretted  that  we  have  not  more,  I  am  justified  in  preserving 
rather  too  many  of  Johnson's  sayings  than  too  few ;  especially  as 
from  the  diversity  of  dispositions  it  cannot  be  known  with  cer- 
tainty beforehand,  whether  what  may  seem  trifling  to  some,  and, 
perhaps,  to  the  collector  himself,  may  not  be  most  agreeable  to 
many ;  and  the  greater  number  that  an  author  can  please  in  any 
degree,  the  more  pleasure  does  there  arise  to  a  benevolent  mind. 
To  those  who  are  weak  enough  to  think  this  is  a  degrading  task, 
and  the  time  and  labor  which  have  been  devoted  to  it  misem- 
ployed, I  shall  content  myself  with  opposing  the  authority  of  the 
greatest  man  of  any  age,  Julius  Casar,  of  whom  Bacon  observes, 
that  'In  his  book  of  Apophthegms  which  he  collected,  we  see  that 
he  esteemed  it  more  honor  to  make  himself  but  a  pair  of  tables, 
to  take  the  wise  and  pithy  words  of  others  than  to  have  every 
word  of  his  own  to  be  made  an  apophthegm  or  an  oracle.'  (Ad- 
vancement of  Learning,  Book  i.)  Having  said  thus  much  by 


220  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

way  of  introduction,  I  commit  the  following  pages  to  the  candour 
of  the  public." 

John  Morley. —  He  was  born  at  Blackburn,  Lancashire,  Dec. 
24,  1838.  He  received  his  education  at  Oxford  where  he 
graduated  in  1859;  he  entered  the  legal  profession  in  1860; 
afterwards,  he  became  the  editor  of  the  Fortnightly  Review 
and  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette.  For  a  number  of  years  he  has 
occupied  a  seat  in  Parliament  and  taken  an  active  part  in  na- 
tional politics.  His  literary  work  has  been  extensive,  much 
of  it  in  the  department  of  biography.  The  most  recent  con- 
tribution to  this  department  is  his  Life  of  William  Gladstone. 

Criticism  by  The  London  Quarterly  Review. — "  There  are 
three  aspects  in  which  Mr.  Morley's  great  work  can,  and  in  the 
long  run  must,  be  appreciated  —  its  aspect  as  a  work  of  literary 
art ;  its  psychological  aspect  as  a  sympathetic  appreciation  of  one 
of  the  greatest  personalities  of  his  time ;  its  historical  aspect  as 
presenting  a  survey,  which  must  needs  be  concise  without  being 
inadequate,  of  the  long  series  of  political  events  associated  with 
Mr.  Gladstone's  career  and  subjected  to  his  influence.  These 
several  aspects  are  so  organically  connected  in  the  biographical 
synthesis  that  they  cannot  be  wholly  dissociated  in  the  critical  an- 
alysis. No  biography  which  neglects  any  one  of  them  can  be  held 
to  attain  to  the  highest  order  of  merit;  but,  if  due  allowance  be 
made  for  Mr.  Morley's  personal  sympathies  and  political  pre- 
possessions, never  suppressed,  and  yet  never  obtruded,  we  shall 
hardly  place  Mr.  Morley's  biography  in  any  class  lower  than  the 
first.  It  is  a  great  portrait  of  a  great  man.  The  biography  is 
long,  even  as  biographies  go  now;  but  its  length  cannot  be  said 
to  be  excessive,  jn  view  of  the  unusual  duration  of  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's public  career,  the  unparalleled  fullness  of  his  life,  and  the 
wide  range  of  his  interests.  It  has  been  said  that  only  a  syndi- 
cate could  write  the  life  of  such  a  man,  and  only  an  encyclopaedia 
could  contain  it.  Mr.  Morley  has  accomplished  the  work  single- 
handed  ;  he  has  completed  it  in  three  years ;  and  he  has  com- 
pressed the  results  into  three  volumes.  Further  than  this  com- 
pression could  not  profitably  go.  His  words  are  seldom  wasted. 


BIOGRAPHY 

They  are  the  distilled  essence  of  documents  innumerable,  the 
condensed  record  of  one  of  the  most  active  and  many-sided  ca- 
reers in  British  history,  a  brief  epitome  of  more  than  half  a  cen- 
tury crowded  with  great  political  events,  unexampled  in  social 
and  economic  change.  Nevertheless,  severely  as  Mr.  Morley  has 
condensed  his  materials,  he  retains  at  all  times  perfect  mastery 
over  them.  His  biography  is  no  mere  bald  and  jejune  calendar 
of  incidents,  controversies,  or  events,  but  an  articulated  narra- 
tive, well  proportioned  in  its  parts,  instinct  with  life  and  move- 
ment, in  which  the  rare  but  necessary  documents  to  be  quoted  fall 
naturally  into  their  places  as  touches  conducive  to  the  complete- 
ness of  the  portrait.  In  style  too,  the  book  is  admirably  suited 
to  its  subject.  The  dominant  note  is  a  grave  and  lofty  dignity, 
but  lighter  tones  are  not  infrequent ;  and  their  introduction  is  well 
attuned  to  the  spirit  of  the  whole  composition.  It  abounds  in 
felicitous  phrases  and  well  chosen  epith.ets ;  and  there  is  no  lack 
of  those  pungent  apophthegms  and  pregnant  reflections  which 
bespeak  the  man  of  letters  who  has  himself  handled  great  affairs. 
As  a  single  specimen  of  Mr.  Morley 's  graver  manner  we  may 
take  his  description  of  the  scene  on  the  introduction  of  the  first 
Home  Rule  Bill.  '  Of  the  chief  comrades  or  rivals  of  the  min- 
ister's own  generation  —  the  strong  administrators,  the  eager  and 
accomplished  debaters,  the  sagacious  leaders  —  the  only  survivor 
now  comparable  to  him  in  eloquence  or  in  influence  was  Mr. 
Bright.  That  illustrious  man  seldom  came  into  the  House  in 
those  distracted  days;  and  on  this  memorable  occasion  his  stern 
and  noble  head  was  to  be  seen  in  dim  obscurity.  Various  as  were 
the  emotions  in  other  regions  of  the  House,  in  one  quarter  re- 
joicing was  unmixed.  There,  at  least,  was  no  doubt  and  no  mis- 
giving. There,  pallid  and  tranquil,  sat  the  Irish  leader,  whose 
hard  insight,  whose  patience,  energy  and  spirit  of  command  had 
achieved  this  astounding  result,  and  done  that  which  he  had 
vowed  to  his  countrymen  that  he  would  assuredly  be  able  to  do. 
On  the  benches  round  him,  genial  excitement  rose  almost  to  tu- 
mult. Well  it  might.  For  the  first  time  since  the  Union,  the 
Irish  case  was  at  last  to  be  pressed  in  all  its  force  and  strength, 
in  every  aspect  of  policy  and  of  conscience,  by  the  most  power- 
ful Englishman  then  alive.  More  striking  than  the  audience  was 
the  man;  more  striking  than  the  multitude  of  eager  onlookers 
from  the  shore  was  the  rescuer  with  deliberate  valour  facing  the 


222  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

• 

floods  ready  to  wash  him  down ;  the  veteran  Ulysses  who,  after 
more  than  half  a  century  of  combat,  service,  toil,  thought  it  not 
too  late  to  try  a  further  '  work  of  noble  note.'  In  the  hands  of 
such  a  master  of  the  instrument,  the  theme  might  easily  have 
lent  itself  to  one  of  those  displays  of  exalted  passion  which  the 
House  had  marvelled  at  in  more  than  one  of  Mr.  Gladstone's 
speeches  on  the  Turkish  question,  or  heard  with  religious  rever- 
ence in  his  speech  on  the  Affirmation  Bill  in  1883.  W'hat  the 
occasion  now  required  was  that  passion  should  burn  low,  and 
reasoned  persuasion  hold  up  the  guiding  lamp.  An  elaborate 
scheme  was  to  be  unfolded,  an  unfamiliar  policy  to  be  explained 
and  vindicated.  Of  that  best  kind  of  eloquence  which  dispenses 
with  declamation,  this  was  a  fine  and  sustained  example.  There 
was  a  deep,  rapid,  steady,  onflowing  volume  of  argument,  expo- 
sition, exhortation.  Every  hard  or  bitter  stroke  was  avoided. 
Now  and  again  a  fervid  note  thrilled  the  ear  and  lifted  all  hearts. 
But  political  oratory  is  action,  not  words-action,  character,  will, 
conviction,  purpose,  personality.  As  this  eager  muster  of  men 
underwent  the  enchantment  of  periods  exquisite  in  their  balance 
and  modulation,  the  compulsion  of  his  flashing  glances  and  ani- 
mated gesture,  what  stirred  and  commanded  them  was  the  recol- 
lection of  natural  service,  the  thought  of  the  speaker's  mastering 
purpose,  his  unflagging  resolution  and  strenuous  will,  his  strength 
of  thew  and  sinew  well  tried  in  long  years  of  resounding  war, 
his  unquenched  conviction  that  the  just  cause  can  never  fail. 
Few  are  the  heroic  moments  in  our  parliamentary  politics,  but 
this  was  one  '  (iii,  311-2).  '  Even  the  bitterest  adversary  of  the 
policy  here  referred  to  must  acknowledge  that  this  is  literary 
work  of  the  highest  order.  We  may  follow  it  up  with  a  few  de- 
tached quotations  illustrating  Mr.  Morley's  felicities  of  expres- 
sion and  appreciation,  premising  at  the  same  time  that  they  lose 
more  than  half  their  effect  by  being  detached  from  their  context. 
Here,  for  a  first  example,  is  a  shrewd  attempt  to  explain  the 
baffling  antinomies  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  personality.  '  An  illus- 
trious opponent  once  described  him,  by  way  of  hitting  his  singu- 
lar quality  of  disposition,  as  an  ardent  Italian  in  the  custody  of 
a  Scotsman.  It  is  easy  to  make  too  much  of  race,  but  when  we 
are  puzzled  by  Mr.  Gladstone's  seeming-  contrarieties  of  tempera- 
ment, his  union  of  impulse  with  caution,  of  passion  with  circum- 
spection, of  pride  and  fire  with  self-control,  of  Ossianic  flight  with 


BIOGRAPHY  j_»> 

a  steady  foothold  on  the  solid  earth,  we  may  perhaps  find  a  sort 
of  explanation  in  thinking  of  him  as  a  Highlander  in  the  custody 
of  a  lowlander '  (i,  18).  There  are  in  Morley's  portrait,  at  any 
rate,  no  dark  or  doubtful  lineaments;  and,  did  space  permit,  we 
could  quote  passage  after  passage  to  heighten  the  picture  of  his 
laborious,  high-minded,  and  conscientious  persistence  in  the 
profitable  use  of  rare  and  high  gifts,  and  in  the  scrupulous  dis- 
charge of  all  the  duties  imposed  on  him  by  life  and  its  circum- 
stances. Nevertheless,  it  was  a  pre-established  harmony  between 
his  best  gifts  and  the  proper  field  for  their  employment  that  made 
him  a  politician.  He  might  have  been  anything,  as  Huxley  said. 
But  unless  he  had  followed  his  early  and  rather  schwdnncrisch 
impulse  to  take  orders,  it  is  certain  that  in  any  civil  walk  of  life 
he  must  have  gravitated  sooner  or  later  to  politics.  He  was  es- 
sentially a  man  of  action,  although  he  was  a  great  deal  more,  and 
had  several  qualities,  gifts,  and  even  failings  which  are  seldom 
found  so  highly  developed  in  men  of  action  of  the  class  to  which 
he  belonged.  Mr.  Morley  puts  all  this  very  well  in  his  opening 
pages.  '  It  is  true  that  what  interests  the  world  in  Mr.  Gladstone 
is  even  more  what  he  was  than  what  he  did ;  his  brilliancy,  charm, 
and  power ;  the  endless  surprises ;  his  dualism,  or  more  than 
dualism ;  his  vicissitudes  of  opinion ;  his  subtleties  of  mental 
progress ;  his  strange  union  of  qualities  never  elsewhere  found 
together ;  his  striking  unlikeness  to  other  men  in  whom  great  and 
free  nations  have  for  long  periods  placed  their  trust.  .  .  . 
Some  may  think  in  this  connection  that  I  have  made  the  pre- 
ponderance of  politics  excessive  in  the  story  of  a  genius  of  signal 
versatility,  to  whom  politics  were  only  one  interest  among  many. 
.  .  .  Yet,  after  all,  it  was  to  his  thoughts,  his  purposes,  his 
ideals,  his  performances  as  statesman,  in  all  the  widest  signifi- 
cance of  that  lofty  and  honorable  designation,  that  Mr.  Glad- 
stone owes  the  lasting  substance  of  'his  fame.  His  life  was  ever 
'greatly  absorbed-'  he  said,  'in  working  the  institutions  of  his 
country/  Here  we  mark  a  signal  trait.  Not  for  two  centuries, 
since  the  historic  strife  of  Anglican  and  Puritan,  had  our  island 
produced  a  ruler  in  whom  the  religious  motive  was  paramount 
in  the  like  degree.  He  was  not  only  a  political  force,  but  a 
moral  force.  He  strove  to  use  all  the  powers  of  his  own  genius 
and  the  powers  of  the  state  for  moral  purposes  and  religious. 
Nevertheless,  his  mission  in  all  its  forms  was  action.  He  had 


224 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 


none  of  that  detachment,  often  found  among  superior  minds, 
wLich  we  honour  for  its  disinterestedness,  even  while  we  lament 
its  impotence  in  result.  The  track  in  which  he  moved,  the  in- 
struments that  he  employed,  were  the  track  and  the  instruments, 
the  sword  and  the  trowel,  of  political  action ;  and  what  is  called 
the  Gladstonian  era  was  distinctively  a  political  era."  (The 
Quarterly  Review,  1905,  pp.  i,  2,  3.) 

Minor  Examples  of  Biography.—  The  Life  of  Audubon  by 
Elliot  Cowes  and  Maria  Audubon  —  a  composite  biography. 
John  J.  Audubon,  America's  greatest  ornithologist,  born  at 
New  Orleans,  1780-1851;  of  French  descent,  and  educated 
in  France  —  celebrated  for  his  drawings  of  birds.  His  chief 
works  are,  The  Birds  of  America;  Quadrupeds  of  America. 
The  Life  of  John  Ruskin,  by  W.  G.  Collingwood.  Ruskin  di- 
vides with  Newman  the  honors  of  first  place  in  English  prose ; 
celebrated  as  an  art  critic,  and  reformer  of  English  taste  in 
architecture  and  painting.  Best  known  of  his  works  are,  The 
Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture;  the  Stones  of  Venice;  Modern 
Painters.  Life  of  Louis  Pasteur  by  Rene  Vallery  Radot. 
Pasteur,  the  leading  scientist  of  France,  in  the  past  century, 
celebrated  for  his  researches  in  bacteria,  born  at  Jura,  1822- 
1895.  Institutes  bearing  his  name  and  founded  for  the  treat- 
ment of  hydrophobia  and  kindred  germ  diseases,  exist  in  the 
large  cities  of  America  and  Europe.  Besides  these  lives  we 
have  as  recent  editions,  the  Life  of  Cromwell  by  President 
Roosevelt;  the  Life  of  Bismarck  by  Butler;  the  Life  of  New- 
man by  Waller  and  Burrow. 


CHAPTER    XXXI 
HISTORY 

History  is  one  of  the  most  important  of  the  standard  prose- 
forms.  It  is  the  oldest  prose-form  of  which  we  have  an  au- 
thentic account.  It  supplies  material  for  every  department  of 
literature ;  and,  in  turn,  borrows  from  all  departments  whether 
of  verse  or  of  prose.  Hence,  the  interpretation  and  appreci- 
ation of  literature  depend  in  a  large  measure  upon  a  knowledge 
of  history. 

Meaning  of  the  Word.—  It  is  derived  from  the  Greek  word, 
istoria.  which  signifies  knowledge  obtained  by  learned  inquiry 
or  investigation.  According  to  the  Greek,  istoor  signifies  a 
wise  man,  a  judge,  or  a  critic.  And  the  result  of  his  investiga- 
tion was  known  as  history.  This  definition  from  the  origin 
of  the  word  does  not  differentiate  history  from  the  sciences,  all 
of  which  are  the  result  of  learned  investigation. 

Definition  According  to  Usage. —  According  to  usage,  his- 
tory has  both  a  general  and  a  specific  meaning.  In  general  it 
means  the  prose  narrative  of  past  events,  as  probably  true 
as  human  testimony  will  allow.  In  its  widest  sense  it  includes 
the  record  of  all  animate  and  inanimate  orders  of  being.  For 
example,  the  History  of  the  Stars  by  Chambers;  the  His- 
tory of  the  Earth  by  Seeley;  the  so-called  Natural  Histories 
dealing  with  animal  and  plant  life.  But  in  the  strict  sense 
history  is  confined  to  the  human  record.  It  is  defined  as 
the  prose  narrative  of  past  events,  having  for  its  subject-mat- 

225 


226  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

ter  collective  human  life.  In  this  way  it  is  distinguished  from 
biography,  which  deals  with  individual  human  life.  The  col- 
lective life  either  of  tribes  or  nations  or  the  whole  human  race 
is  the  proper  field  and  theme  for  the  historical  writer. 

Factors  in  the  Construction  of  History. —  In  the  construc- 
tion of  history  the  two  chief  factors  are  science  and  art. 
Science  collects  the  facts,  ascertains  their  truth  by  an  exhaust- 
ive examination  of  documents.  Thus  science  deals  with  the 
sources  of  history  and  supplies  all  the  material.  An  examina- 
tion of  these  "  sources  "  is  precisely  the  same  kind  of  work  as 
an  examination  of  the  different  strata  of  rock  or  the  different 
flora  and  fauna  of  the  earth.  Hence  like  geology  and  botany 
history  is  fundamentally  scientific.  There  is  this  difference, 
however,  between  the  science  of  history  and  other  sciences. 
Historical  facts  are  only  known  indirectly  by  the  help  of  their 
traces.  Historical  knowledge  is  essentially  indirect  knowledge. 
The  facts  of  other  sciences  are  known  by  direct  observation ;  the 
facts  of  history  depend  upon  documents  and  human  testimony. 
One  illustration :  By  direct  personal  observation  we  can  prove 
the  existence  of  the  law  of  gravitation.  We  can  prove  the 
existence  of  an  historical  Alexander  only  on  the  testimony  of 
contemporary  witnesses  and  records.  Hence,  history  is  called 
an  indirect  science  in  order  to  distinguish  it  from  the  direct 
sciences.  On  that  account  it  is  none  the  less  reliable. 

Art  as  a  Factor  in  History.—  When  the  facts  of  history  are 
authenticated  and  collected,  the  artist  begins  to  group,  co- 
ordinate and  mass  them  in  a  literary  structure.  Thus  history 
may  be  compared  to  architecture,  the  brick  and  stone  of  which 
are  historical  facts.  The  artist  begins  with  a  plan  or  outline, 
and  he  applies  at  once  the  fundamental  principles  of  art  — • 
unity,  harmony,  balance,  proportion.  The  historian  so  ar- 
ranges his  facts  as  to  give  not  merely  a  dead  image,  but  a  living 


HISTORY 

representation  of  the  past.  On  this  point  Symonds  writes: 
"  The  magic  wand  of  the  historian  touches  the  grave,  and  na- 
tions reappear  clothed  in  their  habit  as  they  lived/'  Finally, 
the  historian  is  a  literary  artist  who  gives  to  his  subject-matter 
all  the  grace  and  charm  of  style  found  in  other  departments  of 
literature. 

History  in  Relation  to  Other  Arts. —  History  is  often  com- 
pared with  architecture  on  account  of  its  massiveness,  magni- 
tude, the  unity  and  complexity  of  its  design.  The  Gothic 
cathedral  in  which  a  single  unifying  idea  dominates  a  world  of 
detail  and  complexity  is  not  a  greater  work  of  art  than  the 
masterpieces  of  history.  History  bears  a  close  resemblance  to 
painting  on  account  of  the  large  amount  of  pictorial  work  in- 
volved. It  is  a  succession  of  grand  pictures  of  battlefield  and 
forum  and  palace,  a  picture  gallery  of  celebrities  who  figured  in 
church,  state,  society.  Hence  history  has  many  a  foreground 
and  back-ground  —  so  many  that  the  phrase,  historical  per- 
spective, is  a  common  one  in  criticism.  It  means  that  the  artist 
must  take  the  viewpoint  of  the  age  he  is  describing,  and  select 
those  personages  and  events  for  the  foreground  of  his  pictures, 
which  deserve  prominence;  at  the  same  time  outlining  in  the 
background  all  the  others.  But  history  is  more  nearly  allied 
to  dramatic  art  than  to  painting ;  for  it  attempts  more  than  the 
mere  picture  of  past  heroes  and  events.  It  attempts  to  re- 
create the  great  characters  of  antiquity.  Like  the  drama,  it 
presents  them  as  living  and  acting.  Hence  Balmez  called  his- 
tory a  grand  drama.  But  while  history  contains  most  of  the 
material  out  of  which  the  drama  has  evolved,  it  is  not  con- 
cerned exclusively  or  even  primarily  with  the  individual  hero. 
The  nation,  the  state,  the  government;  the  acts  of  collective 
human  life  as  revealed  in  the  acts  of  a  state  or  of  a  government 
hold  first  place  and  and  are  an  historian's  first  concern.  All 


22g  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

individuals,  whether  heroes  or  not,  should  be  subordinate  to 
the  main  theme  —  a  nation's  origin,  development,  life. 

The  Art-Content  of  History. —  It  is  a  nation's  life.  Nation 
al  life  like  individual  life,  obeys  two  laws:  first,  the  law  of 
continuity  —  this  means  that  there  are  no  breaks  or  leaps  in 
the  life  of  a  people.  Development  may  hasten  or  may  slacken, 
but  it  is  always  continuous.  The  operation  of  this  law  of  con- 
tinuity makes  history  a  unit ;  it  is  the  basis  for  the  organization 
of  its  facts  into  an  artistic  whole.  The  second  law  is  that  of 
differentiation.  It  means  that  the  life  of  a-people  takes  on  new 
forms  in  the  process  of  development ;  new  ideas,  new  move- 
ments, new  forms  of  government,  new  customs.  These  changes 
are  not  unlike  the  changes  from  childhood  to  maturity  and 
old  age  in  the  life  of  the  individual. 

The  Five-Fold  Life  of  a  Nation.* —  "An  examination  of  the 
life  of  any  people  will  reveal  certain  permanent  features  com- 
mon to  the  history  of  all  civilized  nations.  These  phases  of 
national  life  are  political,  religious,  educational,  industrial  and 
social.  These  are  further  emphasized  by  the  fact  that  each 
has  a  great  organization,  called  an  institution,  around  which  it 
clusters,  and  whose  purpose,  plan  of  work,  and  machinery  are 
peculiar  to  itself.  For  political  life  the  center  is  the  institu- 
tion called  government;  for  religious  life,  the  church ;  for  intel- 
lectual life,  the  school;  for  industrial  life,  occupation;  for  social 
life,  the  family.  Hence,  the  phrase,  institutional  life,  which  is 
often  employed  to  designate  this  five-fold  activity  of  the  na- 
tion." The  law  of  differentiation  is  now  applied  so  thoroughly 
that  we  often  think  of  the  government  without  the  church,  the 
church  without  the  school ;  and  histories  are  written,  which  deal 
with  only  one  of  the  five  phases  of  national  life,  to  the  exclusion 
of  all  the  others.  For  example,  the  history  of  the  Church  of 

*  For  full  development  of  this  idea  see  Professor  Mace :  Method  in  His- 
story,page  11  seqq. 


HISTORY  229 

England ;  the  political  history  of  Great  Britain ;  the  history  of 
British  education ;  the  history  of  the  British  industrial  system. 

The  Origin  of  Institutional  Life. —  The  primitive  history  of 
all  peoples  shows  that,  in  the  beginning,  institutional  life  pre- 
sented itself  to  man's  consciousness  as  a  simple  and  undivided 
whole.  For  example,  in  early  Hebrew  history  Abraham  did 
not  separate  in  thought  his  political  from  his  religious  duties, 
nor  did  he  think  of  his  avocation  and  social  interests  as  dif- 
ferent and  disconnected.  In  his  time  there  were  only  the 
germs  of  a  government,  a  church,  a  school,  an  industrial  sys- 
tem; and  these  were  so  interwoven  with  other  interests  that 
they  constituted  one  great  life.  But  between  that  time  and 
the  present  the  principle  of  differentiation  has  done  its  work 
so  perfectly  that  we  often  think  of  the  government  without 
the  church  coming  into  mind;  and  so  with  other  institutions. 
These  institutions  have  become  great  crystallized  centers  of  life 
around  which  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  a  people  grow. 

Value  of  Institutional  Life. —  Growth  in  the  life  of  a  nation 
becomes  permanent  by  being  embodied  through  law  or  custom, 
in  its  appropriate  institution.  For  example,  growth  in  politi- 
cal thought  and  feeling  finds  entrance  into  government,  as  the 
history  of  theocracy,  monarchy  and  democracy  clearly  shows. 
Growth  in  religious  life  found  entrance  into  the  world,  and 
paganism  and  Judaism  yielded  to  Christianity,  while  Christi- 
anity itself  has  through  the  ages  elaborated  its  appropriate  in- 
stitution. The  same  growth  is  permanent  in  our  industrial, 
educational  and  social  institutions. 

Institutional  Life  the  Basis  of  Civilization. —  Because  of  this 
permanent  institutional  life,  progress  is  possible,  the  advance  of 
civilization  is  assured ;  for  one  generation  profits  by  the  achieve- 
ments of  all  its  predecessors. 


230  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

The  Organic  Unity  of  Institutional  Life. —  While  the  life 
of  a  people  flows  in  one  mighty  stream  of  five  currents,  it  is 
nevertheless  an  organic  whole.  There  is  not  one  destiny  for 
government,  another  for  the  church,  another  still  for  the  school, 
and  a  different  one  for  industrial  and  social  interests ;  but  all 
these  constitute  one  life,  one  destiny.  Hence,  a  great  event 
cannot  occur  in  one  kind  of  institutional  life  without  affecting 
all  the  others.  One  illustration :  The  liberation  of  the  slaves 
in  the  Southern  States.  It  affected  religion  by  cleaving  in 
twain  all  the  religious  denominations  of  the  United  States, 
save  one.  It  affected  politics  by  making  the  solid  South  for- 
ever democratic ;  it  affected  education  by  opening  new  problems 
in  the  intellectual  test  of  voters ;  it  affected  industry  by  chang- 
ing slave-labor  to  paid  labor,  thus  bankrupting  hundreds  of 
Southern  planters;  finally,  it  affected  society  by  raising  the 
question  whether  a  negro  should  be  the  social  equal  of  his 
white  companion  and  neighbor.  A  change  in  any  kind  of 
institutional  life  is  bound  to  be  felt  in  all  the  others.  The  de- 
gree to  which  it  will  be  felt  will  depend  upon  the  amount  and 
character  of  the  change.  For  example,  the  change  from 
Paganism  to  Christianity  was  so  radical  as  to  be  seriously  felt 
in  all  phases  of  institutional  life ;  whereas,  the  political  change 
from  monarchy  to  democracy  in  such  countries  as  France  and 
the  United  States  did  not  materially  alter  other  institutions. 

Various  Kinds  of  History^.—  Each  kind  of  institutional  life 
supplies  material  for  history.  The  records  of  church,  school, 
government  and  the  social  and  industrial  records  comprise  the 
material  furnished  to  the  historian.  It  remains  to  organize  this 
material  into  an  artistic  unity.  Various  methods  ,of  organiza- 
tion are  employed,  giving  us  several  distinct  kinds  of  history. 

Basis  of  Unity. —  First  of  all,  the  basis  of  unity  may  be  any 
one  of  the  five  national  institutions,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  the 


HISTORY  231 

others.  Hence,  the  histories  dealing  separately  with  church, 
school,  government,  and  so  on.  Secondly,  the  basis  of  unity 
may  be  any  one  of  the  five  kinds  of  institutional  life  for  a  single 
period  or  in  a  single  locality.  For  example,  the  history  of  the 
French  Church  in  the  Middle  Ages;  or  the  history  of  the 
Church  in  Brittany.  Fourthly,  the  basis  of  unity  may  be  all 
kinds  of  institutional  life  for  a  single  period.  For  example, 
the  colonial  history  of  the  United  States ;  Hume's  History  of 
the  Anglo-Saxons.  Or  it  may  concern  only  a  locality,  for 
example,  the  history  of  Rhode  Island  or  Massachusetts.  All 
these  kinds  of  history  are  subject  to  national  limitations  and 
deal  with  the  various  phases  of  national  life.  Another  class 
of  history  deals  with  institutional  life  independent  of  any  na- 
tional limitations.  For  example,  a  history  of  the  Church  uni- 
versal ;  a  history  of  government ;  a  history  of  education. 
These  histories  are  international  or  cosmopolitan  in  character. 

Most  Difficult  Species. —  Of  these  various  kinds  of  history 
the  most  difficult  to  write  is  the  complete  life  of  a  nation. 
This  difficulty  arises  from  two  sources :  the  abundance  of  ma- 
terial supplied  by  the  five  phases  of  national  life,  an  abundance 
which  compels  the  historian  to  adopt  a  rigorous  method  of  se- 
lection. The  second  difficulty  is  the  exact  disposition  of  se- 
lected facts  in  order  rightly  to  portray  the  national  life  as 
contrasted  with  the  political,  social  or  religious  life.  The  chief 
objection  against  national  histories  has  been  that  they  have 
given  undue  prominence  to  political  life  and  neglected  the  in- 
dustrial, social  and  intellectual  life  of  the  people.  Such  his- 
tories are  not  lacking  in  unity,  but  they  violate  the  laws  of 
symmetry  and  proportion. 

Various  Methods  of  Writing  History. —  In  writing  history 
the  author  deals  with  documents.  Documents  are  the  traces 
left  in  past  time  by  the  thoughts  and  actions  of  men.  For  the 


232  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

most  part,  these  documents  are  found  in  archives,  although 
monuments,  coins,  inscriptions  or  any  traces  of  the  human 
record  are  regarded  and  classified  as  documents.  Each  kind 
of  institutional  life  possesses  archives.  There  are  archives  of 
family,  society,  church  and  state.  For  the  want  of  these 
archives  the  history  of  many  periods  in  the  past  of  humanity 
must  remain  forever  unknown  or  only  be  guessed  at  from 
fragmentary  traces  in  metal,  brick,  stone  and  mounds  of  earth. 
The  cave-dwellers,  mound-builders  and  Aztecs  are  examples 
in  point  —  their  history  is  almost  unknown. 

The  Grouping  of  Facts. —  The  historical  facts  derived  from 
documents  are  grouped  in  various  ways.  It  is  the  second  step 
in  the  construction  of  history.  The  primary  method  of  group- 
ing is  to  follow  the  order  of  occurrence.  Each  historical  fact 
belongs  to  a  definite  time  and  place ;  so  that  the  writer,  no  mat- 
ter what  be  the  place  or  scope  of  his  history,  will  observe  a 
chronological  order  which  marks  their  succession  of  events  in 
time,  and  a  geographical  order  which  marks  their  succession  in 
a  given  place.  Besides  these  two  kinds  of  order,  there  is  a 
larger  grouping  determined  by  the  scope  of  the  history  itself, 
whether  it  be  a  partial  or  complete  history  of  a  nation.  The 
method  of  grouping  will  then  follow  either  the  lines  of  institu- 
tional life  taken  separately,  and  covering  a  partial  history  of  a 
people,  or  it  will  be  fully  national  in  scope. 

Grouping  of  Facts  (Continued). —  The  grouping  of  facts 
from  which  the  customs  and  modes  of  life  of  a  people  are 
inferred  is  conducted  along  various  lines;  four  of  which  are 
usual  and  common  in  history ;  these  four  lines  are  rustic,  urban, 
provincial  and  national.  Modes  of  country  life  differ  from 
those  of  the  city ;  while  provincial  traits  are  distinct  from 
national  traits.  So  that  a  separate  grouping  of  facts  will 
occur  in  each  case.  So  marked  are  these  lines  of  distinction 


HISTORY 

that  histories  arc  written  on  the  basis  of  each  grouping.  For 
example,  the  history  of  peasant  life  in  Switzerland;  the  his- 
tory of  city  life  in  London ;  the  history  of  New  England 
as  contrasted  with  the  history  of  the  United  States.  The 
sixth  and  last  order  of  grouping  is  based  upon  the  biography 
of  representative  men.  National  life  is  expressed  through 
individuals,  whose  personal  career,  at  least  for  a  time,  is  identi- 
fied with  that  of  the  nation.  So  that  history  is  filled  with 
segments  of  biography  which  are  used  for  the  purpose  of 
grouping  national  acts.  In  nations  under  monarchical  rule,  a 
complete  biography  is  used,  namely,  that  of  the  king  or  ruler ; 
all  national  acts  find  expression  through  time  and  are  grouped 
around  the  story  of  his  life.  Republics  have  a  greater  va- 
riety, but  the  same  principle  of  grouping  is  employed.  But 
history  is  more  than  the  continuous  narrative  of  events.  It 
is  the  collective  facts,  plus  the  inferences  which  the  historian 
draws  regarding  the  habits  of  a  people,  their  national  traits, 
customs,  character.  While  the  process  of  grouping  facts  is 
going  on,  a  second  process  occupies  the  mind  of  the  writer. 
It  is  the  process  of  interpretation.  Without  an  attempt  to 
interpret  these  facts,  history  would  be  a  lifeless  chronicle  of 
past  events.  The  true  life  of  the  nation,  its  manners,  ethics, 
customs,  character,  would  be  wanting. 

Various  Methods  of  Interpreting  Historical  Facts. —  After 

the  grouping  of  historical  facts  takes  place,  the  interpretation 
of  these  facts  follows  in  order  to  determine  the  customs,  habits, 
character,  life  of  a  nation.  Historical  -interpretation  means 
that  the  motives  of  national  acts  are  set  forth,  together  with 
the  moral  consequences.  National  life  and  conduct,  like  indi- 
vidual life,  follows  a  code  of  morality  and  is  governed  by  ethi- 
cal principles.  The  historian  must  interpret  national  acts  in 
the  light  of  the  principles.  This  is  the  most  difficult  task  in  re 
lation  to  history.  One  illustration  :  The  United  States  recent- 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

ly  engaged  in  war  and  acquired  foreign  territory.  Three  mo- 
tives have  been  assigned.  First,  a  desire  to  extend  the  blessings 
of  free  government  to  oppressed  peoples.  Second,  national 
greed,  selfishness,  commercial  advantages.  Third,  a  desire  to 
assert  and  extend  national  power,  the  policy  of  imperialism. 
No  matter  how  these  national  acts  are  interpreted,  they  affect 
our  national  honor,  our  national  character.  They  have  an  ethi- 
cal significance,  because  right  and  wrong,  justice  and  honesty, 
are  involved. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 
HISTORY  (CONTINUED) 

Various  Methods  of  Historical  Interpretation. —  The  inter- 
pretation of  historical  facts  is  the  personal  contribution  of  the 
author  to  history.  It  is  his  estimate  of  national  morals,  charac- 
ter and  life  from  a  review  of  national  acts.  It  is  the  chief 
source  of  error  in  historical  writing.  So  many  false  interpre- 
tations have  been  given  that  history  is  called  a  conspiracy 
against  the  truth.  There  are  two  ways  in  which  to  account 
for  these  false  interpretations :  an  imperfect  knowledge  of  the 
facts,  the  prejudice  of  the  author.  An  imperfect  knowledge 
of  the  facts  may  arise  from  a  scarcity  of  material.  Original 
documents  are  often  scarce  and  fragmentary,  especially  in  the 
case  of  nations  of  great  antiquity.  Inferences  in  such  cases 
are  in  a  large  measure  the  guess  of  the  historian.  Imagination 
takes  the  place  of  fact.  Hence,  the  fictitious  narratives  con- 
cerning the  earliest  inhabitants  of  America,  Europe,  or  Asia. 
An  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  facts  may  arise  from  lack  of 
scholarship.  The  author  is  unable  or  unwilling  to  collect  the 
facts  available.  Ancient  historians  were  often  unable  to  con- 
sult original  documents  owing  to  the  poor  condition  of  libraries 
and  archives,  their  own  poverty  and  the  difficulties  of  travel. 
Much  of  this  difficulty  is  now  overcome  by  our  modern  facili- 
ties for  editing  and  consulting  manuscripts  and  by  the  large 
sums  of  money  available  for  historical  research. 

Prejudice  a  Source  of  Error. —  The  most  fruitful  source  of 
error  is  the  prejudice  of  the  historian.  If  history  be  a  con- 

235 


236  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

spiracy  against  the  truth  it  is  so  because  all  historians  have 
suffered  from  some  kind  of  prejudice.  The  historian  belongs 
to  some  nation,  some  creed,  some  profession;  is  a  member  of 
some  political  party,  is  influenced  by  some  social  rank.  Hence, 
his  interpretation  of  historical  facts  is  modified  and  colored  by 
national,  religious,  political  or  social  prejudice.  In  spite  of 
many  honest  efforts  at  impartiality,  these  kinds  of  prejudice  are 
traceable  in  every  history  written. 

National  Prejudice. —  Of  the  various  kinds  of  prejudice  the 
most  general  and  obvious  is  national  prejudice.  The  tendency 
to  exalt  one's  country  at  the  expense  of  others  is  a  universal 
weakness  from  which  the  historian  has  not  escaped.  The  keen 
rivalry  of  neighboring  nations  often  increases  this  prejudice. 
For  example,  the  case  of  England  and  France.  Centuries  of 
rivalry  between  these  nations  have  so  vitiated  historical  writing 
that  no  one  expects  to  learn  the  truth  regarding  France  from 
English  histories.  In  like  manner  the  histories  of  other 
nations  have  been  filled  with  falsehood.  The  tendency  to  de- 
fend one's  country  has  led  to  all  kinds  of  false  interpretation, 
sometimes  to  the  forging  or  suppression  of  documents.  When 
it  is  a  question  of  incriminating  his  own  country  the  historian 
often  prefers  falsehood  and  the  suppression  of  facts. 

Religious  Prejudice. —  Religion  has  a  firmer  hold  on  the 
affections  of  men  than  love  of  country.  It  is  a  stronger  kind 
of  prejudice  to  overcome.  It  has  left  behind  it  a  trail  of  false- 
hood wherever  rival  creeds  have  flourished.  On  account  of 
this  prejudice,  most  of  the  history  composed  since  the  Reforma- 
tion must  be  rewritten.  Catholic  and  Protestant  historians 
are  about  equally  guilty  in  the  matter  of  prejudice.  And  the 
creed  of  the  infidel  has  not  saved  him  from  similar  error.  For 
example,  the  history  of  Gibbon,  so  admirable  and  trustworthy 
in  many  ways,  is  poisoned  by  religious  prejudice.  The  chap- 


HISTORY  237 

ters  dealing  with  Christianity,  according  to  Dean  Milman, 
are  the  most  dishonest  pages  Gibbon  lias  written.  The  preju- 
dice of  such  writers  as  Froude,  Macaulay,  Freeman,  is  obvious, 
Even  such  an  historian  as  Lingard,  who  made  an  heroic  effort 
to  be  impartial,  does  not  escape  religious  prejudice. 

Party  Prejudice.—  The  influence  of  party  and  social  rank 
are  minor  kinds  of  prejudice  but  are  equally  effective  in  vitiat- 
ing history.  Party  bitterness  often  reaches  the  same  excess  as 
religious  or  national  prejudice.  It  is  easy  to  discover  from 
internal  evidence  to  what  party  the  historian  belongs,  and  what 
may  be  his  rank  in  society;  that  internal  evidence  will  be  a 
one-sided  view  of  national  events. 

The  Removal  of  Prejudice. —  At  the  present  time  there  are 
several  agencies  at  work,  tending  to  destroy  prejudice  and  im- 
prove historical  writing.  Three  of  these  are  noteworthy: 
First  of  all,  the  modern  facilities  afforded  for  getting  at  his- 
torical truth.  There  never  was  a  time  when  the  honest  his- 
torian had  a  better  opportunity  to  do  reliable  work.  The  great 
archives  of  the  world  'are  all  open  to  him.  There  never  was  a 
time  when  so  many  original  sources  of  information  were  ac- 
cessible. Today  every  government  supports  its  own  society 
of  historical  research,  and  spends  thousands  of  dollars  in  equip- 
ping libraries  and  multiplying  documents  for  critical  investi- 
gation. In  this  matter,  the  example  of  governments  is  fol- 
lowed by  two  kinds  of  institutional  life  —  the  Church,  and  the 
school.  The  Church  has  opened  her  archives  and  placed  a 
premium  on  historical  investigation  by  inviting  the  leading 
scholars  of  the  world  to  Rome.  The  leading  universities  of 
America  and  Europe  send  out  bands  of  scholars  annually  for 
the  purpose  of  collecting  historical  data.  At  the  present  time 
the  University  of  Chicago  has  three  bands  at  work,  one  in 
Mexico,  another  in  South  America,  a  third  in  Palestine.  In 


238  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

like  manner,  other  American  universities  and  those  of  the  old 
world,  are  engaged  in  historical  investigation.  As  a  result 
the  historian  is  enabled  to  give  a  more  accurate  account,  no 
matter  what  department  he  is  working  in.  Along  with  in- 
creased facilities  for  knowing  historical  facts,  there  is  a  grow- 
ing desire  for  accuracy,  both  on  the  part  of  writers  and  read- 
ers —  the  outcome  of  the  modern  scientific  spirit.  This  spirit 
has  opened  a  new  era  in  the  treatment  of  history. 

Cosmopolitan  Spirit. —  A  second  agency  at  work  is  the  cos- 
mopolitan as  opposed  to  the  national  spirit.  National  barriers 
are  fast  breaking  down,  enabling  the  historical  writer  to  over- 
come the  prejudice  of  race.  Commerce  and  increased  facilities 
of  travel  make  it  possible  for  one  nation  to  become  acquainted 
with  another  as  never  before.  A  truer  concept  of  human 
brotherhood  exists,  and  a  better  appreciation  of  what  foreign 
peoples  have  accomplished.  The  narrow  patriotism  that  would 
falsify  the  national  record  for  the  sake  of  national  pride  or 
glory,  is  fast  disappearing. 

Universal  Toleration. —  Religious  prejudice,  like  national 
prejudice,  is  yielding  to  the  spirit  of  universal  toleration. 
Fanaticism  which  was  mainly  responsible  for  historical  false- 
hood, is  dying  out.  The  historian  who  belongs  to  one  creed 
can  now  write  with  tolerable  fairness  concerning  another  creed. 
An  occasional  writer  still  appears,  like  Charles  Henry  Lea,  the 
historian  of  the  Inquisition;  but  the  class  he  represents  no  lon- 
ger appeals  to  the  general  public.  Perhaps  the  strongest 
corrective  of  prejudice  is  the  modern  diffusion  of  knowledge. 
A  well-informed  public  will  not  permit  repetition  of  the  old  lies 
concerning  race  or  creed  or  party.  A  comparison  of  the  re- 
cent work  done  by  Jansen,  Pastor,  Bancroft  and  Freeman  with 
previous  historians  will  show  a  marked  decline  in  all  kinds 
of  prejudice  and  an  increasing  respect  for  historical  truth. 


HISTORY 

Literary  Style  in  Historical  Composition. —  After  grouping 
facts  and  interpreting  them  without  prejudice,  the  historian 
considers  the  literary  style  in  which  his  facts  and  inferences 
will  be  expressed.  There  is  a  general  agreement  regarding 
certain  qualities  of  this  style ;  that  it  be  clear,  animated,  digni- 
fied, as  befits  a. serious  subject.  Blair  repeating  the  observa- 
tions of  Quintilian,  has  this  to  say  concerning  the  style  in  which 
history  ought  to  be  written :  "  The  purpose  of  history  should 
determine  its  style,  that  purpose  is  to  record  truth  for  the  in- 
struction of  mankind.  The  purpose  of  history  is  to  enlarge  our 
view  of  national  and  human  character;  it  presents  important 
facts  which  when  seen  in  connection  with  their  causes,  and 
when  studied  in  their  effects,  become  our  guides  to  right  con- 
duct, supplying  ouf  want  of  experience.  History  thus  be- 
comes our  moral  teacher,  and  on  that  account  the  style  in  which 
it  is  written  ought  to  be  grave  and  dignified,  addressing  itself 
to  our  judgment  rather  than  to  our  imagination,  and  excluding 
flippancy,  levity,  sarcasm,  invective,  wit  and  humor,  and  all 
qualities  which  would  detract  from  the  seriousness  of  the  sub- 
ject." These  characteristics,  gravity  and  dignity,  demand  the 
periodic  or  long  sentence,  which  is  elaborated  with  all  the 
wealth  and  force  of  language;  these  qualities  do  not  exclude 
ornament,  but  the  imagery  must  correspond  with  seriousness 
and  dignity  —  no  degrading  similes  or  metaphors  are  permit- 
ted. These  qualities  demand  the  long  paragraph  as  well  as 
the  long  sentence,  both  of  which  add  impressiveness  and  weight 
to  the  style. 

Various  Kinds  of  Style  Employed. —  Aside  from  the  general 
characteristics  of  gravity  and  dignity,  the  historian  varies  his 
style  in  three  ways.  When  presenting  facts  and  telling  the 
sequence  of  events  he  employs  the  narrative  style.  The  main 
feature  of  this  style  is  to  set  forth  facts,  incidents  and  events  in 
the  order  of  their  occurrence  and  with  as  much  economy  of  at- 


240  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

tention  as  possible.  It  is  most  frequently  employed  in  histori- 
cal composition  because  the  author  is  dealing,  for  the  most 
part,  with  narrative.  Occasionally,  however,  he  pauses  in  the 
narrative  to  draw  a  picture  or  paint  a  scene ;  hence  the  pictorial 
style  in  historical  composition,  which  is  a  considerable  vari- 
ation from  the  narrative  form.  Finally,  after  grouping  a  num- 
ber of  facts,  incidents  and  events,  the  historian  pauses  to  draw 
a  number  of  inferences,  account  for  national  acts  by  assigning 
motives.  In  doing  so  he  employs  the  philosophic  style  which 
varies  considerably  from  either  narrative  or  pictorial  work. 

The  Narrative  Style.—  In  the  narrative  style  three  qualities 
are  involved :  the  selection  of  facts,  their  combination  in 
the  story,  and  the  progress  or  movement  of  the  story.  Hence, 
the  narrative  style  is  the  art  of  story-telling  in  historical 
composition.  This  art  demands  vividness,  which  makes  the 
story  brisk  and  interesting;  directness,  which  goes  straight  to 
the  conclusion  toward  which  the  sequence  of  incidents  and 
events  is  leading.  In  using  the  narrative  style  the  writer 
must,  first  of  all,  select  material ;  he  must  pick  and  choose,  for 
what  can  be  said  concerning  a  given  story  or  train  of  events 
is  only  a  small  portion  of  what  might  be  said.  So  that  a  good 
story-teller  is  recognized  by  what  he  omits  as  well  as  by  what 
is  said.  For  example,  in  telling  the  story  of  a  battle  the 
historian  is  confronted  with  a  mass  of  details  concerning  the 
movements  of  the  troops  and  the  incidents  of  the  struggle. 
He  cannot  narrate  them  all ;  he  must  leave  out  the  larger  num- 
ber of  them.  So  many  histories  contain  dull,  wearisome 
narrative  because  their  authors  have  not  mastered  the  art  of 
telling  a  story ;  they  regard  all  incidents  of  equal  importance ; 
they  have  not  learned  how  to  present  those  prominent  events 
which  would  suggest  the  others  less  prominent  and  of  neces- 
sity suppressed.  No  method  of  selecting  details  applies  in 
every  case ;  but  in  every  story  we  are  concerned  to  know  where 


HISTORY  241 

the  scenes  are  laid,  who  are  the  leading  characters;  what  are 
the  motives  and  lines  of  their  conduct;  what  is  the  aim  or  pur- 
pose of  the  story.  As  for  the  rest,  it  must  be  determined  by 
circumstances  and  the  skill  of  the  artist. 

Proportion. —  A  second  quality  of  the  narrative  style  is  pro- 
portion. Proportion  is  a  fundamental  law  of  art.  In  this  case 
it  means  some  plan  whereby  a  certain  amount  of  space  will  be 
accorded  to  each  group  of  facts  or  incidents  —  an  arrangement 
based  upon  the  relative  importance  of  such  groups  to  the  whole 
work.  Proportion,  then,  in  the  narrative,  will  depend  upon 
the  scope  and  extent  of  the  work.  If  the  plan  allows  of  much 
detailed  elaboration,  we  may  expect  the  narrative  to  be  crowded 
with  incidents ;  we  may  expect  the  relations  of  cause  and  effect 
to  be  fully  explained,  and  all  the  ideas  associated  with  the  main 
thread  of  the  story  to  be  given  ample  space  in  the  composition. 
Such  provision  is  always  made  in  the  plan  of  the  best  histories. 

Movement. —  A  third  and  final  quality  of  the  narrative  style 
is  movement.  Constant  progression  is  demanded  in  the  story. 
Something  new  and  attractive  is  continually  required  in  order 
to  stimulate  the  curiosity  of  the  reader  and  hold  his  attention. 
The  motive  of  telling  the  story  must  often  appear,  in  order  to 
prevent  it  from  being  a  mere  bundle  of  disjointed  facts.  In 
the  best  histories  the  progress  of  the  narrative  is  always  rapid, 
a  swiftly  moving  current  which  halts  only  when  a  scene  is  to 
be  painted  or  when  the  end  of  each  story  requires  the  personal 
reflections  and  interpretation  of  the  author.  Among  English 
historians,  Hume,  Gibbon  and  Prescott  are  regarded  as  our 
greatest  masters  of  the  narrative  style. 

Descriptive  Style. —  Pictorial  work  in  history  demands  the 
descriptive  style.  Like  the  illustrations  in  a  modern  journal, 
pictorial  work  is  necessary  to  impart  vividness.  It  also  sup- 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

plies  the  theatre,  stage  and  scenery  for  the  action  of  the  na- 
tional drama.  It  presents  the  national  heroes,  the  leading 
characters,  giving  a  picture  of  each.  Hence,  the  descriptive 
style  is  called  word-painting.  For  example,  in  writing  the 
history  of  any  people  it  would  be  necessary  to  describe  the 
country  where  they  flourished;  their  principal  cities,  build- 
ings, battlefields,  and  objects  of  a  similar  character.  A 
variety  of  methods  are  employed  in  word-painting,  two  of 
which  are  in  general  use.  The  first  is  called  the  objective 
method,  wherein  an  attempt  is  made  to  describe  the  object  as 
truthfully  as  possible  without  any  reference  to  the  emotions  it 
arouses.  This  attempted  reproduction  of  the  object  is  merely 
an  enumeration  of  the  principal  features  taken  in  the  order 
in  which  they  are  presented  to  the  eye.  While  reading  these 
details,  the  imagination  of  the  reader  must  construct  the  pic- 
ture. The  second  is  called  the  subjective  method,  when  the 
author  tells  about  the  emotion  excited  by  the  details  which  he 
passes  in  review.  The  imagination  and  the  fancy  of  the 
author  play  upon  the  object  and  transform  it  into  something 
which  reflects  his  own  personality.  This  personal  element  is 
scarcely  ever  eliminated  from  descriptive  work;  although  in 
historical  composition  it  is  less  prominent  than  in  any  other 
kind  of  writing  because  the  historian  is  acting  in  the  official  ca- 
pacity of  a  critic  or  judge  of  national  conduct,  and  according- 
ly, must  suppress  emotion  and  give  an  impersonal  character 
to  his  work.  On  the  other  hand,  the  personal  or  subjective 
element  has  widest  scope  whenever  history  loses  its  judicial 
character  and  passes  into  the  realm  of  fiction.  For  example, 
the  personality  of  Walter  Scott  reflected  in  his  historical 
novels.  No  historian  can  expect  to  succeed  without  a  fair 
mastery  of  this  style;  for  no  matter  how  skilfully  a  narrative 
may  be  constructed,  it  will  grow  monotonous  unless  pictorial 
work  be  introduced  from  time  to  time;  these  pictures  care- 
fully executed  and  frequently  introduced,  enkindle  the  read- 


///.STOAT 

er's  imagination  and  appeal  to  his  sense  of  beauty ;  they  afford 
periods  of  relief  and  entertainment  by  allowing  the  eye  to 
rest  upon  the  leading  personages  and  upon  the  scenes  in  which 
these  personages  are  engaged.  Thus,  in  a  special  manner, 
description  is  the  artistic  setting  of  historical  composition, 
giving  scope  to  the  literary  and  aesthetic  gifts  of  the  writer. 

The  Philosophic  Style. —  Besides  narrative  and  descriptive 
work,  there  is  another  kind  of  style  employed  in  history.  It 
is  used  whenever  the  historian  offers  an  interpretation  of  his- 
torical facts,  and,  in  consequence,  it  is  named  the  philosophic 
or  judicial  style  of  writing.  This  style  differs  materially 
from  narration  or  description.  It  is  often  called  the  judicial 
style,  for  the  historian  passes  judgment  upon  historical  acts 
in  the  same  manner  as  a  judge  upon  the  bench.  With  the 
utmost  degree  of  calmness  and  impartiality  he  is  expected  to 
deliver  an  opinion  regarding  national  conduct,  and  the  mis- 
fortune of  history  has  been  that,  while  preserving  the  judicial 
style  and  temper,  his  judgment  has  so  often  been  contrary  to 
the  evidence.  This  style  of  writing  is  plain,  severe,  dignified, 
without  ornament  or  much  elaboration.  The  arts  and  deco- 
rations of  rhetoric  which  characterize  descriptive  work  are 
laid  aside;  the  sole  aim  of  the  writer  being  to  state  his 
opinion  in  the  clearest  and  most  definite  manner  possible. 
This  style  is  employed  at  the  end  of  chapters,  at  the  close  of 
important  national  events,  at  the  death  of  leading  national 
characters  or  whenever  the  historian  finds  it  necessary  to  pass 
judgment  upon  any  group  of  events. 

Some  Representative  Stylists  in  History. —  Each  nation 
possessing  an  extensive  literature  claims  one  or  two  historians 
distinguished  for  their  style.  Of  ancient  classic  authors 
Thucydides  among  the  Greeks  and  Livy  among  the  Latins  are 
celebrated  for  the  exquisite  literary  finish  given  to  their  work. 


244  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

The  following  comparison  of  the  style  of  both  writers  is  given 
by  Blair:  "Thucydides  ranks  as  the  greatest  historian  of 
antiquity;  next  to  him  we  must  place  Livy;  and  both  have 
attained  that  exalted  position  owing  to  the  incomparable 
beauty  of  their  style.  Thucydides  flourished  in  the  golden 
age  of  Greek  literature;  he  had  enormous  wealth,  and  leisure 
necessary  to  recast  and  polish  his  work.  His  history  displays 
in  full  perfection  that  supreme  and  unapproachable  beauty  of 
form,  .of  which  the  Greeks  alone  possessed  the  secret.  Livy 
enjoyed  similar  advantages  in  wealth  and  leisure;  but  the 
language  in  which  he  wrote  was  not  susceptible  of  the  same 
polish  and  refinement."  Thucydides'  style  is  seen  at  its  best 
in  the  orations  which  crowd  the  pages  of  his  history;  in  his 
pen-pictures  of  the  heroes  who  figured  in  the  Peloponnesian 
v/ar,  and  in  his  descriptions  of  the  various  battles  by  land  and 
sea.  His  narrative  work  is  not  so  successful ;  he  tries  often  to 
compress  facts  within  too  narrow  limits  and  shares  with  Taci- 
tus the  odium  of  being  at  times  very  vague  and  obscure;  he 
did  not  possess  the  highest  talent  as  a  story-teller.  Perhaps 
the  strongest  feature  of  his  writing  is  his  dramatic  power,  the 
vividness  with  which  he  paints  the  great  scenes  and  events. 
Thucydides  was  the  first  who  introduced  orations;  and  the 
addresses  with  which  his  history  abounds  are  among  the  most 
valuable  remains  which  we  have  of  ancient  eloquence.  On 
the  other  hand,  Livy  is  excelled  by  no  historian  whatever  in 
the  art  of  narration.  He  manages  to  keep  the  attention  of  the 
reader  even  when  recounting  the  driest  details  —  the  story 
never  tarries,  while  the  classic  purity  of  his  style,  the  elo- 
quence of  his  speeches,  the  skill  with  which  he  depicts  the 
play  of  emotion  in  his  leading  characters  have  deservedly  en- 
titled him  to  universal  popularity.  In  style  and  language  he 
represents  the  best  period  of  Latin  prose-writing.  If  he 
writes  with  less  finish  and  less  perfect  rhythm  than  his  model, 


HISTORY 

Cicero,  he  excels  him  in  the  varied  structure  of  his  periods 
and  in  the  adaptation  of  the  style  to  the  subject-matter. 

Method  of  the  Ancients. —  This  criticism  does  not  include 
questions  of  fact  or  fidelity  to  historical  truth.  For  it  was 
on  the  artistic  rather  than  on  the  critical  side  of  history  that 
stress  was  almost  universally  laid  in  antiquity;  and  the  thing 
that  above  all  others  was  expected  from  the  historian  was  not 
so  much  a  scientific  investigation  and  accurate  exposition  of 
the  truth,  as  its  skilful  presentation  in  such  a  form  as  would 
charm  and  interest  the  reader.  In  this  sense  Cicero  speaks  of 
history  as  an  oratorical  work  as  if  the  oration  were  its  pre- 
dominant feature;  and  Quintilian  speaks  of  it  as  a  prose- 
poem.  So  that  it  was  by  their  artistic  merits  that  the  ancient 
historians  would  stand  or  fall. 

Modern  Scientific  Method. —  The  method  of  treating  history 
as  a  species  of  literature  was  the  method  employed  by  Thucy- 
dides,  and  Livy,  and  the  ancient  classic  writers  generally. 
This  method  prevailed  down  through  the  Middle  Ages  to  the 
close  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  literary  method  was 
then  superseded  by  the  scientific  method,  the  author  of  which 
was  George  Niebuhr.  He  was  born  in  1776  and  died  in 
1831;  of  German  parentage,  although  born  in  Copenhagen. 
He  is  known  as  the  founder  of  the  Modern  Scientific  School 
of  History.  He  reversed  the  ancient  classic  conception  re- 
garding the  purpose  of  history;  declaring  that  history  was 
science,  not  literature.  In  three  particulars  he  represents  a 
departure  from  the  ancient  canons  of  historical  composition. 
First,  he  depreciates  style,  attaching  no  importance  to  literary 
form  or  finish.  Concerning  the  proper  style  to  be  employed 
Niebuhr  writes :  "  The  style  of  history  ought  to  be  similar 
to  the  style  of  any  scientific  treatise,  a  plain  statement  of  truth, 
nothing  more.  The  attention  given  by  the  ancients  to  literary 


246  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

finish  was  a  mistake,  a  waste  of  time.  I  expect  that  my  read- 
ers will  find  sufficient  attraction  in  the  matter  of  my  history 
without  pausing  to  consider  the  manner  of  writing."  A 
second  departure  from  the  ancient  style  was  the  stress  laid 
by  Niebuhr  upon  institutions,  tendencies,  political  and  social 
movements,  not  upon  the  lives  of  celebrated  individuals.  Nie- 
buhr continues :  "  The  mistake  of  historians  has  been  a  love 
of  hero-worship  which  has  made  of  history  little  more  than 
a  tissue  of  inflated  biography.  The  great  man  has  over- 
shadowed every  other  consideration.  I  prefer  to  transfer  the 
reader's  attention  to  the  acts  of  the  nation,  the  manners,  habits, 
institutions,  the  vast  and  varied  life  of  the  people."  A  third 
departure  was  the  elimination  of  the  element  of  fiction.  The 
beautiful  orations  which  made  ancient  history  so  attractive 
had  to  go,  for  history  is  a  science,  not  literature.  Niebuhr  is 
responsible  for  eliminating  the  oration  from  modern  history. 
In  the  same  manner  the  myths  and  legends  which  made  ex- 
cellent literature  were  excluded  from  history.  In  his  History 
of  Ancient  Rome,  he  destroys  many  a  beautiful  legend  about 
the  origin  and  early  growth  of  the  Roman  race.  To  Niebuhr 
we  may  trace  the  beginning  of  that  destructive  criticism  which 
has  dealt  so  unkindly  with  the  records  and  legends  of  the 
Hebrew  people. 

Influence  of  Niebuhr.—  The  appearance  of  Niebuhr  marked 
a  new  epoch  in  historical  writing.  His  example  was  followed 
by  all  the  German  historians  of  any  note.  They  disregarded 
style  and  literary  finish,  and  worked  upon  history  as  they 
would  work  upon  any  scientific  treatise.  The  immediate 
effect  of  Niebuhr's  example  was  the  rise  of  the  Tubingen 
School,  whose  founder  was  Ferdinand  Baur.  Baur  was  born 
in  1/92;  died  in  1860.  The  same  destructive  criticism  which 
Niebuhr  directed  against  Roman  myths  and  legends,  was 
directed  against  the  Bible  by  Baur  and  the  Tubingen  School. 


HISTORY 

This  school  is  celebrated  for  its  bitter  attack  upon  the  divinity 
of  Christ  and  the  supernatural  element  in  the  Bible.  Baur's 
critical  history  of  the  Hebrews  reduces  miracle  to  the  same 
status  as  a  myth,  or  explains  away  the  wonderful  event  by 
assigning-  natural  causes.  An  unexpected  application  of  Nie- 
buhr's  method  was  made  to  German  history  by  Doctor  Janssen. 
The  traditional  lies  and  calumnies  concerning  the  old  church 
were  handled  in  the  same  manner  as  Roman  myths.  The 
publication  of  evidence  placed  many  of  the  Reformers  in  an 
entirely  new  light  before  the  public.  The  private  life  of 
Martin  Luther  was  revealed  by  the  publication  of  letters  and 
official  correspondence.  Statements  made  by  Janssen  are  in 
every  case  supported  by  documentary  evidence.  In  his  His- 
tory of  the  Popes,  now  in  course  of  preparation,  Ludwig 
Pastor  employs  the  same  method,  and  certain  Popes  like  Alex- 
ander VI  suffer  in  the  same  manner  as  Martin  Luther.  Per- 
haps the  most  distinguished  disciple  of  Niebuhr  is  Theodore 
Mommsen  who  continued  Niebuhr's  work  in  writing  Roman 
history  and  employed  Niebuhr's  methods. 

The  following  estimate  of  Niebuhr  and  the  modern  German 
historians  is  given  by  Mr.  Garnett,  an  English  critic : 

Criticism  by  Garnett. — "  From  the  point  of  view  of  industry 
and  scholarship,  modern  German  historians  like  Niebuhr  and 
Mommsen  are  deserving  of  all  praise;  they  have  created  a  new 
era  in  historical  writing  when  fact  takes  the  place  of  fiction,  and 
mere  guesswork  is  supplanted  by  evidence.  The  best  tribute 
to  their  painstaking  zeal,  and  devotion  to  truth,  is  that  the  his- 
torians of  other  nations  have  imitated  their  example  in  trying 
to  get  at  the  truth  of  history.  But  the  German  historians,  al- 
most without  exception,  make  the  grave  mistake  of  disregard- 
ing the  artistic  side  of  history;  their  style  is  almost  uniformly 
dull  and  wearisome  —  it  lacks  life,  color,  movement.  The  nar- 
rative is  painfully  slow,  owing  to  the  mass  of  details  crowded 
into  the  page.  They  gather  all  the  facts  with  the  greatest  dili- 
gence, but  seem  to  be  unable  to  organize  them  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 
HISTORY  (CONTINUED) 

Representative  Stylists  in  French  History. —  In  contrast 
with  the  unpolished  style  of  German  historians  is  the  atten- 
tion paid  by  the  French  to  literary  form  and  finish.  French 
writers  are  conceded  to  be  the  unrivaled  masters  of  modern 
prose;  partly  because  of  their  language,  and  partly  on  ac- 
count of  the  artistic  instinct  which  is  stronger  in  the  French 
than  in  any  other  modern  nation.  It  has  often  been  remarked 
that  if  we  could  add  the  merit  of  German  scholarship  to  their 
work,  we  would  reach  the  ideal  in  the  art  of  writing  history. 
French  historians  are  not  so  active  as  the  Germans  in  col- 
lecting material,  nor  are  they  so  careful  in  weighing  evidence. 
Like  the  ancient  classic  writers,  their  chief  concern  seems  to 
be  the  finished  and  attractive  form  rather  than  the  matter. 

Guizot. —  Of  the  representative  historians  of  France,  Wil- 
liam Francis  Guizot  deserves  special  mention,  as  being  the 
best  known  and  most  widely  appreciated  historian  outside  his 
own  country.  Guizot  was  born  in  1787;  died  in  1874;  a 
prolific  writer,  Professor  of  Literature  at  the  Sorbonne,  and  a 
member  of  the  French  Academy.  His  collected  writings  com- 
prise sixty  volumes,  including  translations  of  Shakespeare 
and  Gibbon.  His  chief  historical  works  are  a  History  of 
Civilization  in  Europe,  a  History  of  Civilization  in  France. 

The  following  estimate  of  Guizot  is  given  by  Richard  Hut- 
ton,  an  English  critic: 

248 


HISTORY  249 

Criticism  by  Hutton. — "  As  an  historian,  Guizot  reached  the 
highest  point  of  fame.  His  histories  place  him  among  the  best 
writers  of  France  and  of  Europe;  his  works  must  be  regarded 
as  classics  of  modern  historical  research,  and  an  evidence  of 
the  great  advance  in  the  treatment  of  modern  history,  which  has 
marked  the  last  half  century.  Guizot  approaches  the  German 
type  in  scholarship  and  accuracy.  He  is  perhaps  the  most  re- 
liable of  the  French  historians.  Like  the  Germans,  he  employs 
a  style  which  is  not  remarkable  either  for  imagery  or  systematic 
narrative  or  beauty  of  description.  In  this  respect  he  is  unlike 
any  of  his  countrymen.  The  strength  of  the  style  comes,  above 
all  things,  from  his  thought ;  he  has  written  grandly  because 
he  has  thought  profoundly.  His  phrase  is  never  glowing  or 
flowery,  but  always  full  of  meaning.  Without  the  aid  of  imagery 
his  writings  are  powerful,  with  a  flavor  of  sententiousness  and 
at  times  a  tendency  to  be  dogmatic.  It  is  the  style  of  the  logician, 
never  yielding  to  levity  or  humor.  Guizot  treated  history  as 
a  social  science.  He  introduced  among  French  historians  a 
more  critical  spirit,  and  taught  them  the  superior  value  of  con- 
clusions drawn  from  facts.  He  applied  to  history  those  laws 
which  science  applies  to  other  phenomena.  He  was  the  first  to 
present  a  complete  analysis  of  the  divers  elements  which  com- 
pose the  social  body;  he  formulated  the  historic  law  of  mutual 
dependences,  pointing  out  the  reciprocal  influence  of  the  indi- 
vidual upon  society,  and  society  upon  the  individual.  He  also 
applied  the  law  of  evolution  to  history,  seeing  therein  successive 
and  progressive  transformations.  To  quote  his  own  words: 
'  In  the  hands  of  an  all-powerful  Providence  the  history  of  a 
people  is  never  interrupted  or  broken  and  never  re-commences.' 
Guizot  had  many  personal  qualities  which  fitted  him  for  historical 
writing :  he  was  cool  and  cautious  in  temperament ;  without  bias, 
either  national  or  religious;  a  sincere  believer,  in  an  age  of 
scoffing  infidelity ;  and  a  consistent  defender  of  liberty  and  order 
against  the  attacks  of  absolutism  and  anarchy." 

Jules  Michelet.—  Besides  Guizot,  two  other  French  writers 
should  be  mentioned  in  connection  with  French  History. 
The  first  of  these  is  Jules  Michelet  —  born  in  1798;  died  in 
1874.  He  occupied  the  Chair  of  History  in  the  College  of 


250  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

France.  Like  Guizot,  he  was  a  prolific  writer,  one  who  con- 
tributed to  many  departments  of  literature.  His  chief  histori- 
cal work  is  a  History  of  France,  upon  which  he  spent  forty 
years.  Other  works  of  considerable  merit  are  his  History  of 
the  Roman  Republic;  History  of  the  Knights  Templar  and  a 
History  of  the  French  Revolution. 

Criticism  by  George  Saintsbury. — "  The  literary  character- 
istics of  Michelet  are  among  the  most  clearly  marked,  also  among 
the  most  peculiar  French  literature.  In  the  details  of  his  style 
he  is  quite  original  and  individual.  His  sentences  and  para- 
graphs are  as  different  as  possible  from  the  orderly  architecture 
of  French  classic  prose.  He  often  omits  the  verb,  breaks  or 
twists  the  phrase,  and  gives  a  grotesque  finish  to  his  work, 
in  many  points  resembling  Carlyle.  His  style  is  just  the  oppo- 
site of  Guizot  and  the  German  school.  To  Michelet,  history  is 
always  picturesque ;  it  is  a  series  of  pictures.  His  imagina- 
tion is  constantly  at  work  and  excited  —  like  Carlyle,  images 
are  continually  dancing  before  his  mind.  Michelet  called  his- 
tory '  the  Resurrection  ' —  the  awakening  of  the  dead  ;  and  while 
it  is  often  difficult  to  adjust  his  work  to  ascertained  facts,  yet 
his  pictures  are  always  possible ;  his  descriptions  are  instinct 
with  genius,  and  always  life-like.  There  are  no  dead  bones  in 
Michelet,  no  hint  of  the  dissecting  table  as  in  Guizot ;  and  where- 
as the  style  of  Guizot  is  hard,  cold  and  analytic,  the  style  of 
Michelet  is  glowing  with  sentiment,  full  of  fire,  a  synthesis  true 
to  life,  and  stimulating  in  the  highest  degree.  In  reading  him 
one  is  constantly  reminded  of  Victor  Hugo  or  Carlyle." 

Ernest  Renan. —  A  representative  writer  of  modern  French 
prose  is  Joseph  Ernest  Renan  who  was  born  in  1823  and 
died  in  1892.  A  member  of  the  French  Academy  and  recog- 
nized as  one  of  the  best  prose  writers  France  has  produced. 
He  wrote  a  History  of  the  Origins  of  Christianity  in  six 
volumes,  one  of  which  is  his  celebrated  Life  of  Christ.  Be- 
sides the  history,  he  left  two  valuable  works  in  criticism;  one 
on  the  origin  of  language,  the  other  an  estimate  of  the  doc- 
trines of  Averroes. 


HISTORY  2SI 

Criticism  by  Mark  Pattison. —  The  historical  work  of  Kenan 
may  be  compared  with  that  of  Macaulay  in  style  and  in  popu- 
larity ;  although  Renan  deserves  more  credit  for  historical  re- 
search, and  he  also  had  a  greater  regard  for  historical  truth. 
In  either  case  it  was  the  style  that  won  popular  favor.  As  an 
illustration  of  the  popularity  of  Renan,  twenty-four  editions  of 
his  Life  of  Christ  were  sold  in  three  years.  '  In  analyzing  the 
style  of  Renan  we  find/  says  Mark  Pattison,  an  English  critic, 
*  the  greatest  care  in  the  choice  and  collocation  of  words ;  each 
sentence  is  symmetrically  formed  with  the  nicest  appreciation  of 
rhythm  and  effect.  His  narrative  never  tires ;  on  the  contrary, 
it  invites  and  allures  the  reader  so  that  one  is  loath  to  lay  down 
the  volume.  In  his  descriptive  work  there  is  a  tendency  to  paint 
in  glowing  colors,  and  perhaps  an  undue  prominence  given  to 
the  flowers  of  fancy ;  so  that,  for  example,  in  his  descriptions  of 
Palestine  one  feels  like  being  introduced  into  fairyland.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  name  another  modern  French  author  who  for  grace 
and  charm  of  diction  ca-n  compare  with  Renan." 

English  Historians.— If  we  compare  the  work  of  English 
historians  with  that  of  the  French  or  Germans  we  find  it  some- 
what inferior  both  in  amount  and  in  quality.  We  have  not 
so  large  a  number  of  specialists  engaged  in  the  department 
of  history,  nor  is  historical  study  so  successfully  prosecuted  in 
English  schools  as  in  France  or  Germany.  The  greatest  mas- 
ters of  English  style  like  Newman,  Ruskin,  Kingsley,  Steven- 
son, have  given  little  attention  to  this  species  of  composition; 
at  best  they  have  written  only  historical  sketches  or  historical 
romances.  For  the  most  part  they  employed  their  talents 
in  other  departments  of  literature  or  science.  Biography, 
oratory  and  fiction  have  made  a  much  stronger  appeal  to  them 
than  history.  As  a  consequence,  the  history  of  England  is 
written  in  fragments;  the  British  colonies  and  dependencies 
receive  even  scantier  treatment.  We  have  no  history  to  place 
side  by  side  with  Michelet's  History  of  France  or  Janssen's 
History  of  the  German  People.  And  although  our  literature 
is  as  rich  and  varied  and  as  excellent  as  any  in  other  depart- 


252  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

ments,  we  have  very  few  names  to  redeem  our  historical  writ- 
ing from  an  unenviable  mediocrity. 

Venerable  Bede. —  The  first  English  writer  of  prominence 
who  should  be  mentioned,  although  not  a  great  stylist,  is  the 
Venerable  Bede,  justly  called  the  Father  of  English  History. 
His  Ecclesiastical  History,  composed  in  the  early  part  of  the 
eighth  century,  is  in  reality  a  political  history  of  England 
down  to  that  date,  for  it  comprises  all  that  is  known  of  early 
English  history,  whether  ecclesiastical  or  poltical.  A  note- 
worthy feature  of  Bede's  history  is  the  amount  of  research 
which  it  represents.  His  method  of  quoting  authorities  and 
of  weighing  their  evidence  proves  his  unwillngness  to  imitate 
either  classic  authors  or  his  own  contemporaries  in  the  matter 
of  blending  fact  with  fiction.  As  he  states  in  the  preface, 
"  I  have  labored  sincerely  to  commit  to  writing  only  such 
reliable  things  as  I  could  gather  from  the  works  of  scholars 
and  from  common  tradition  for  the  purpose  of  rightly  in- 
structing posterity.  If  I  have  written  anything  not  delivered 
according  to  the  truth,  the  reader  must  not  impute  the  same 
to  me,  for  in  all  that  I  have  written  I  have  labored  honestly 
to  render  a  faithful  account."  The  Latin  style  of  Bede  is 
correct,  plain  and  clear  but  not  remarkable  for  any  quality 
distinguishing  it  from  ordinary  Church  Latinity.  The 
charming  personality  of  Bede,  like  that  of  Alfred,  has  won 
him  even  greater  fame  than  his  history. 

Earl  of  Clarendon.— The  first  English  historian  who  de- 
serves to  be  ranked  as  a  stylist  is  ^Edward  Hyde,  better  known 
as  the  Earl  of  Clarendon.  He  was  born  in  1608;  died  in 
1674.  A  university  graduate  and  a  member  of  the  Long 
Parliament,  Clarendon  took  part  in  the  English  Civil  War, 
which  he  afterward  made  the  subject  of  his  history.  As  the 
materials  were  derived  from  the  author's  personal  experience, 


HISTORY  253 

the  work  is  of  high  value,  and  places  Clarendon  among  the 
leading  historians  of  England ;  while  the  dignity,  strength  and 
polish  of  his  style  rank  him  as  one  of  our  classic  prose-writers. 
Clarendon  was  a  royalist,  and  his  history  in  places  is  an  ex- 
cellent illustration  of  party  prejudice.  As  the  period 
covered  is  barely  forty  years,  his  work  is  also  a  fair  illustra- 
tion of  how  English  history  is  written  in  fragments.  There 
are  two  noteworthy  features  of  his  history  —  it  is  written 
rather  in  the  form  of  Memoirs  than  of  history,  as  if  the  Civil 
War  were  an  episode  in  the  author's  own  life  rather  than  a 
part  of  the  history  of  England.  A  second  feature  is  the  ex- 
cellent manner  in  which  the  leading  characters  of  the  Civil 
War  are  delineated.  The  fine  analysis  of  character  and  its 
dramatic  presentation  are  not  the  least  among  the  gifts  of 
Clarendon.  His  prose  is  distinctively  modern  in  tone  and 
phrase  as  contrasted  with  the  involved,  lumbering  style  which 
Milton,  Bacon  and  Raleigh  employed  in  their  historical 
writings. 

David  Hume. —  The  next  stylist  after  Clarendon,  in  the 
order  of  time,  is  David  Hume,  the  Scotch  philosopher,  essay- 
ist and  historian.  Some  critics,  like  Henry  Morley,  regard 
Hume  as  our  greatest  stylist  in  the  department  of  history, 
ranking  him  ahead  of  Macaulay,  Gibbon  or  Prescott.  The 
History  of  England,  written  by  Hume,  beginning  with  the  in- 
vasion of  Julius  Caesar,  extends  to  the  reign  of  James  I.  This 
was  the  first  historical  work  in  English  planned  on  an  exten- 
sive scale.  The  merits  of  the  plan,  says  Morley,  and  the  in- 
comparable clearness  and  beauty  of  the  narration  soon  over- 
came the  indifference  of  the  public,  and  the  history  gradually 
but  successfully  rose  to  the  highest  popularity  and  took  its  place 
among  the  prose  classics  of  our  language,  a  place  it  has  ever 
since  retained.  There  is  a  certain  exquisite  ease  and  vivacity 
about  Hume's  narrative  which  has  never  been  surpassed.  He 


254 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 


possessed  all  the  qualities  of  a  good  story-teller;  and,  besides 
this  merit,  his  descriptive  power  was  of  the  very  highest  order 
—  he  pictures  the  great  battles  and  scenes  of  important  events 
in  such  a  way  as  to  excite  the  interest  of  the  dullest  reader. 
Perhaps  the  harshest  criticism  of  Hume  is  of  his  indolence, 
accepting  so  much  of  his  material  from  second-hand  sources 
and  not  troubling  himself  too  much  about  accuracy.  Thus, 
there  are  legendary  and  half-mythological  stories  told  in  the 
first  volume  of  his  history  which  ordinary  accuracy  would 
have  excluded.  In  spite  of  his  belief  and  attitude  on  religious 
matters,  Hume  wrote  a  history  which  has  at  present  a  wider 
circulation  than  any  other  on  the  same  subject. 

Lord  Macaulay. —  The  best  known  stylist  in  English  history 
is  Lord  Macaulay,  whose  work,  like  that  of  Clarendon,  is 
fragmentary.  Scarcely  two  hundred  years  of  English  history 
are  covered  by  it.  Whatever  be  the  correct  estimate  of  his 
work,  Macaulay  had  a  rather  peculiar  view  of  what  a  history 
should  be.  In  one  of  his  critical  essays  he  defines  a  perfect 
history  as  a  compound  of  poetry  and  philosophy,  impressing 
general  rules  on  the  mind  by  a  vivid  representation  of  particu- 
lar characters  and  incidents.  Elsewhere  he  defines  the  perfect 
historian  as  one  in  whose  work  the  character  and  spirit  of  an 
age  are  exhibited  in  miniature.  He  relates  no  fact,  attributes 
no  expression  to  his  characters,  which  is  not  authenticated  by 
sufficient  testimony ;  the  true  historian  shows  us  the  court,  the 
camp,  the  senate.  He  shows  us  also  the  nation.  He  considers 
no  anecdote,  no  peculiarity  of  manner,  no  familiar  saying  as  too 
insignificant  for  his  notice,  which  is  not  too  insignificant  to 
illustrate  the  operation  of  laws,  of  religion  and  of  education, 
and  to  mark  the  progress  of  the  human  mind 

Criticism  by  Frederic  Harrison. —  Macaulay's  theory  of 
what  a  history  should  be  is  far  better  than  his  performance. 


HISTORY 

His  work  is  full  of  mistakes ;  although  he  had  at  hand  all  the 
material  necessary  for  an  accurate  account.  His  love  for  strik- 
ing antitheses  led  him  to  make  statements  which  a  sound  judg- 
ment would  have  modified.  The  fact  is,  Macaulay  was  carried 
away  by  the  glamor  and  glitter  of  a  highly  artificial  style  and 
sacrificed  the  truth  of  his  narrative  for  the  sake  of  striking 
effects ;  the  sweeping  generality,  the  grand  climax,  the  splendid 
paradox  —  all  needed  the  element  of  fiction  in  order  that  they 
might  be  sustained;  but  notwithstanding  his  lack  of  judgment 
and  accuracy,  the  magnificence  of  his  style  won  him  instant 
popularity,  and  he  remains  the  literary  idol  of  those  who  mistake 
rhetorical  tinsel  for  sound  taste  and  genuine  merit.  We  may  not 
inappropriately  call  him  the  glorified  journalist.  While  Mac- 
aulay had  undoubted  genius  in  the  manipulation  of  words  and  the 
marshalling  of  sentences,  he  lacked  the  scholarship,  patience, 
moderation  and  sound  judgment  necessary  to  the  historian. 

Edward  Gibbon. —  By  far  the  greatest  name  in  English  his- 
torical literature  is  that  of  Edward  Gibbon  who  was  born  in 
1737;  died  in  1794.  By  turns  a  catholic,  protestant  and  in- 
fidel, he  finally  settled  down  to  a  sort  of  philosophic  deism. 
Educated  at  the  English  universities  and  in  Switzerland,  Gib- 
bon displayed  at  all  times  an  insatiable  appetite  for  reading 
and  study ;  he  was  known  at  home  and  in  school  as  a  diligent 
student. 

Criticism  by  Thomas  Shaw. —  The  History  of  the  Decline 
and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  greatest 
monuments  of  industry  and  genius.  The  task  he  undertook  was 
to  give  a  connected  narrative  of  one  of  the  most  eventful  periods 
in  the  annals  of  the  world.  It  embraced  a  period  of  thirteen 
centuries,  accounting  for  the  greatest  religious  and  social  changes 
that  have  ever  modified  the  destinies  of  our  race;  the  rise  and 
progress  of  Christianity  and  Mahomedanism.  The  institutions 
of  Feudalism  and  Chivalry;  the  establishment  of  the  modern 
European  nations.  The  complexity  .of  the  subject  was  as  re- 
markable as  its  extent.  Not  the  least  noteworthy  feature  is  the 
full  and  varied  references  and  quotations  with  which  he  supports 


256  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

his  assertions.  Very  few  statements  made  by  Gibbon  have  been 
modified  by  more  recent  historical  study.  Guizot  calls  him  the 
most  accurate  of  our  historians.  The  style  of  Gibbon  is  remark- 
ably pompous,  elaborate  and  dignified.  Owing  to  the  immense 
preponderance  of  the  Latin  over  the  Saxon  element  in  his  dic- 
tion he  is  the  least  English  of  all  our  writers  of  the  first  class. 
The  French  idiom  abounds.  His  chief  sin  against  good  taste  is 
the  too  gorgeous  and  highly  colored  tone  in  his  descriptions. 
His  imagination  was  sensuous  and  he  dwells  with  greater  enthu- 
siasm upon  material  than  moral  grandeur.  There  is  in  much  of 
his  work  an  offensive  cynicism,  as  if  he  were  recording  the  story 
of  a  race  of  fools.  It  is  a  trace  of  the  influence  of  Voltaire  upon 
his  life  and  character. 


Henry  Hallam. —  A  modern  English  historian  who  illus- 
trates the  method  of  writing  history  on  institutional  rather 
than  national  lines,  is  Henry  Hallam,  who  died  in  1859. 
Hallam  was  a  lawyer  by  profession,  an  excellent  classical 
scholar,  one  who  possessed  an  accurate  and  profound  ac- 
quaintance with  the  language,  literature,  history  and  institu- 
tions of  modern  Europe,  Hallam  wrote  a  constitutional  his- 
tory of  England,  beginning  with  Henry  VII.  It  covers  a 
period  of  three  hundred  years 

Criticism  by  Macaulay. — "  On  the  whole,  Mr.  Hallam  is  far 
better  qualified  than  any  other  writer  of  our  time  for  the  office 
which  he  has  undertaken.  He  has  great  industry  and  great 
acuteness.  His  knowledge  is  extensive,  various  and  profound. 
His  mind  is  equally  distinguished  by  the  amplitude  of  its  grasp 
and  by  the  delicacy  of  its  tact.  His  speculations  have  none  of 
that  vagueness  which  is  the  common  fault  of  political  philosophy. 
On  the  contrary  they  are  strikingly  practical,  and  teach  us  not 
only  the  general  rule,  but  the  mode  of  applying  it  to  solve  par- 
ticular cases.  In  this  respect  they  often  remind  us  of  the  dis- 
courses of  Machiavelli.  The  manner  of  the  book  is,  on  the 
whole,  not  unworthy  of  the  matter.  The  language,  even  when 
most  faulty,  is  weighty  and  massive,  and  indicates  strong  sense 
in  every  line.  It  often  rises  to  an  eloquence,  not  florid  or  im- 


HISTORY 


257 


passioned,  but  high,  grave  and  sober;  such  as  would  become  a 
state  paper  or  a  judgment  delivered  by  a  great  magistrate.  In 
this  respect  the  character  of  Mr.  Hallam's  mind  corresponds 
strikingly  with  that  of  his  style.  His  work  is  eminently  judicial. 
The  whole  spirit  is  that  of  the  Bench  —  he  sums  up  with  a  calm, 
steady  impartiality,  turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left, 
glossing  over  nothing,  exaggerating  nothing.  On  a  general 
survey,  we  do  not  scruple  to  pronounce  the  Constitutional  His- 
tory the  most  impartial  book  we  have  ever  read." 

Henry  Buckle. —  An  English  historian  who  imitated  Guizot 
in  writing  about  civilization,  is  Henry  Thomas  Buckle,  born 
in  1821 ;  died  1862.  His  History  of  Civilization  in  England, 
complete  in  two  volumes,  appeared  in  1860  and  caused  a  sen- 
sation in  Europe  and  America.  The  special  doctrine  he 
sought  to  uphold  was  that  climate,  soil,  food,  and  the  aspects 
of  nature  are  the  determining  factors  in  intellectual  progress. 

Criticism  by  Robert  Flint. — "  Buckle  had  a  high  ideal  of  the 
historian's  duties,  and  he  laboriously  endeavored  to  realize  it, 
but  he  fancied  himself  far  more  successful  in  the  attempt'  than 
he  really  was,  and  greatly  underrated  what  had  been  accomplished 
by  others.  He  brought  a  vast  amount  of  information  from  the 
most  varied  and  distant  sources  to  confirm  his  opinions,  and  the 
abundance  of  his  materials  never  perplexed  or  burdened  him  in 
his  argumentation ;  nevertheless,  examples  of  well-conducted  his- 
torical inductions  are  rare  in  his  pages ;  he  sometimes  altered  and 
distorted  the  facts.  He  was  very  apt,  when  he  had  proved  a 
favorite  opinion  true,  to  infer  it  to  be  the  whole  truth.  His  intel- 
lect was  comprehensive  and  vigorous,  but  neither  classically 
cultured  nor  scientifically  disciplined;  it  was  amazingly  stored 
with  facts,  but  not  rich  in  ideas ;  it  was  ambitious  in  aspiration, 
confident  to  excess  in  its  own  powers,  and  exceptionally  uncon- 
scious of  where  its  knowledge  ceased  and  its  ignorance  began. 
Buckle  was  deficient  in  imagination,  poetical  feeling,  and  sym- 
pathy ;  hence  he  was  narrow  and  harsh  in  his  judgments  on  cer- 
tain great  periods  of  time  and  large  classes  of  men,  on  antiquity 
and  the  Middle  Ages,  on  the  clergy  and  statesmen,  on  heroes  and 
martyrs.  But  he  was  fearlessly  honest  according  to  his  lights, 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

and  gave  expression  to  the  most  distasteful  of  his  opinions  with 
a  manly  openness.  He  paid  great  attention  to  his  style;  it  may 
be  pronounced  equal  to  the  subject,  precise  enough  for  the  de- 
mands of  science,  full,  flowing  and  flexible  enough  for  every  pur- 
pose of  history.  It  is  lucid  when  the  business  of  the  writer  is  to 
state,  explain,  or  illustrate ;  and  whenever  anger  at  the  oppressor, 
or  sympathy  with  the  oppressed  calls  upon  it,  it  ascends  to  tones 
worthy  of  Edmund  Burke  himself." 

William  Prescott. —  Among  authors  of  history,  our  greatest 
stylist  is  William  Hickling  Prescott,  born  in  1796;  died  in- 
1859.  A  graduate  of  Harvard  College,  Prescott  took  up 
the  study  of  Spanish  history,  the  result  of  his  work  being  a 
History  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella;  History  of  Phillip  II; 
The  Conquest  of  Mexico ;  and  The  Conquest  of  Peru.  He  also 
left  a  considerable  volume  of  critical  essays. 

Criticism  by  Robert  Wace. — "  As  an  historian,  Prescott 
stands  in  the  direct  line  of  literary  descent  from  Robertson,  whose 
influence  is  clearly  discernible  in  his  method  and  style.  But 
while  Robertson  was  in  some  measure  the  initiator  of  a  movement 
dealing  with  Spanish  history,  Prescott  came  to  the  task  when  the 
range  of  information  was  incomparably  wider.  He  worked, 
therefore,  upon  more  assured  ground;  his  sifting  of  authorities 
was  more  thorough,  and  his  method  less  restricted,  both  in  the 
selection  of  details  and  in  their  graphic  presentation.  At  the 
same  time,  Prescott  cannot  be  classed  as  in  the  highest  sense  a 
philosophic  historian.  His  power  lies  chiefly  in  the  clear  grasp 
of  fact,  in  selection  and  synthesis,  in  the  vivid  narration  of  inci- 
dent. For  extended  analysis  he  had  small  liking  and  faculty, 
his  critical  insight  is  limited  in  range,  and  he  confines  himself 
almost  wholly  to  the  concrete  elements  of  history.  When  he  does 
venture  upon  more  abstract  criticism,  his  standards  are  often  com- 
monplace and  superficial.  And  the  world-scheme  to  which  he 
relates  events  is  less  profound  than  the  thought  of  his  time  alto- 
gether warranted.  If  these  things,  however,  indicate  failure 
from  the  point  of  view  of  ideal  history,  they  at  least  make  for 
popularity.  Few  historians  have  had  in  a  higher  degree  that 


HISTORY  259 

artistic  feeling  in  the  broad  arrangement  of  materials  which 
insures  interest.  The  course  of  his  narrative  is  unperplexed  by 
doubtful  or  insoluble  problems ;  no  pretense  at  profundity  or 
subtlety  saps  the  vitality  of  his  characters  or  interrupts  the  flow 
of  incident  with  dissertation  or  digression.  The  painting  is 
filled  in  with  primary  colors  and  with  a  free  hand ;  and  any  sense 
of  crudity  which  may  be  awakened  by  close  inspection,  is  com- 
pensated by  the  vigor  and  massive  effectiveness  of  the  whole. 
Though  Prescott  did  not  bring  to  his  work  the  highest  scientific 
grasp,  he  brought  to  it  scientific  conscientiousness  and  thorough- 
ness within  his  limitations,  while  his  dominant  pictorial  faculty 
gave  to  his  treatment  a  superscientific  brilliancy.  The  romance  of 
history  has  seldom  had  an  abler  exponent,  and  the  large  number  of 
editions  and  translations  of  his  works  attests  their  undiminished 
fascination." 

George  Bancroft. —  An  American  historian,  whose  name  de- 
serves mention  with  that  of  Prescott,  is  George  Bancroft, 
who  was  born  in  1800  and  died  in  1891  ;  and  who  spent  forty 
years  of  his  life  upon  a  history  of  the  United  States.  The 
first  volume  was  published  in  1834,  and  the  tenth  or  last,  in 
1874.  Bancroft  also  wrote  a  history  of  the  Constitution  of 
the  United  States,  which  compares  very  favorably  with  Hal- 
lam's  Constitutional  History  of  England,  both  from  the  point 
of  view  of  style  and  research. 

Criticism  by  Henry  Tuckerman. — "  Mr.  Bancroft  carefully 
prepared  himself  for  the  task  of  writing  a  history  of  his  coun- 
try. After  securing  the  best  scholarship  training  that  his  own 
country  afforded,  he  spent  some  years  in  the  German  universities 
of  Gottingen  and  Heidelberg.  To  the  task  of  writing  a  History 
of  the  United  States  he  brought  great  and  patient  industry,  an 
eloquent  style,  and  a  capacity  to  array  the  theme  in  the  garb  of 
philosophy.  Throughout  he  is  the  earnest  advocate  of  demo- 
cratic institutions ;  and  in  the  early  volumes,  where,  by  the  nature 
of  the  subject  there  is  little  scope  for  attractive  detail,  by  infusing 
a  reflective  tone  he  rescues  the  narrative  from  dryness  and 
monotony.  Instead  of  a  series  of  facts  arranged  without  any 


260  ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

unity  of  sentiment,  we  have  the  idea  and  principle  of  civic  ad- 
vancement towards  freedom,  as  a  thread  upon  which  the  incidents 
are  strung.  He  is  remarkably  diligent  in  unfolding  the  experi- 
ences of  the  first  discoverers,  and  the  political  creeds  of  the  early 
settlers ;  many  curious  and  authentic  details  of  aboriginal  habits 
are  also  given ;  there  are  everywhere  signs  of  research  and  genu- 
ine enthusiasm.  Owing  to  the  unequal  interest  of  the  subject,  the 
same  glow  and  finish  are  not  uniformly  perceptible  in  the  style 
in  which  we  occasionally  discern  an  obvious  strain  after  rhetorical 
effect.  Sometimes,  also,  the  author's  political  opinions  are  too 
often  apparent.  But  these  are  incidental  defects.  The  general 
spirit,  execution,  and  effect  of  the  work  are  elevated,  genial,  and 
highly  instructive.  Mr.  Bancroft  has  vindicated  his  right  to  com- 
pose the  annals  of  his  country  by  giving  to  the  record  that  vital- 
ity both  of  description  and  of  thought  which  distinguishes  true 
history  from  a  mere  collation  of  facts.  He  combines  in  his  style 
the  traits  of  a  two-fold  culture  —  the  speculative  tendency  of  the 
German,  and  the  vivid  delineation  of  the  English  historian;  in  a 
word,  he  gives  us  pictures,  like  the  one,  and  arguments  and  sug- 
gestions, like  the  other,  carefully  stating  the  fact,  and  earnestly 
deducing  from  it  the  idea ;  he  is  more  comprehensive  as  a  philos- 
opher than  a  limner,  and  yet  no  tyro  in  the  latter's  art,  for  here 
and  there  we  encounter  a  character  as  tersely  drawn,  and  a  scene 
as  vividly  painted,  as  any  of  those  which  have  rendered  the  best 
modern  historians  popular.  But  it  is  the  under-current  of 
thought  rather  than  the  brilliant  surface  of  description  which 
gives  intellectual  value  to  Bancroft's  History,  and  has  secured 
for  it  so  'high  and  extensive  a  reputation.  In  sentiment  and  prin- 
ciples, it  is  thoroughly  American ;  but  in  its  style  and  philosophy 
it  has  that  broad  and  eclectic  spirit  appropriate  both  to  the  gen- 
eral interest  of  the  subject  and  the  enlightened  sympathies  of  the 
age.  Perhaps  the  best  way  to  appreciate  the  literary  merits  of 
Bancroft's  History  is  to  compare  it  with  the  cold  and  formal  an- 
nals familiar  to  our  childhood.  Unwearied  and  patient  in  re- 
search, discriminating  in  the  choice  of  authorities,  and  judicious 
in  estimating  testimony,  Bancroft  has  the  art  and  the  ardor,  the 
intelligence  and  the  tact,  required  to  fuse  into  a  vital  unity  the 
narrative  thus  carefully  gleaned.  He  knows  how  to  condense 
language,  evolve  thought  from  fact,  and  make  incident  and  char- 
acterization illustrate  the  progress  of  events.  This  bold,  active, 


HISTORY  26l 

concentrated  manner  is  what  is  needed  to  give  permanent  and 
living  interest  to  history.  Portraits  of  individuals,  scenes  preg- 
nant with  momentous  results  and  philosophic  inferences  alternate 
in  his  pages.  The  character  of  Pitt,  the  death  of  Montcalm,  and 
the  rationale  of  Puritanism,  are  very  diverse  subjects,  yet  they 
are  each  related  to  the  development  of  the  principle  of  freedom 
on  this  continent,  and,  accordingly,  received  both  the  artistic  and 
analytical  treatment  of  the  American  historian." 

Francis  Parkman.—  Born  at  Boston,  1823  ;  died,  1893.  He 
studied  at  Harvard  University,  graduating  with  high  honors 
in  1844;  taught  for  one  year  in  the  University.  His  writings 
belong  to  the  department  of  history  and  of  fiction.  His  his- 
torical writings  deal  with  early  pioneer,  missionary  and  Indian 
life  in  North  America.  Chief  works:  Jesuits  in  North  Amer- 
ica; Montcalm  and  Wolfe;  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New 
World. 

Criticism  by  Henry  Tuckerman. — "  Parkman  hunted  the  buf- 
falo, fraternized  with  the  Indians,  and  thus  gained  that  practical 
knowledge  of  aboriginal  habits  and  character  which  enabled  him 
to  delineate  the  subject  chosen  with  singular  truth  and  effect. 
The  result  of  his  studies  and  experiences  is  not  only  a  reliable 
and  admirably  planned  narrative,  but  one  of  the  most  pictur- 
esque and  romantic  produced  in  America.  Few  subjects  are 
more  dramatic  and  rich  in  local  associations ;  and  the  previous 
discipline  and  excellent  style  of  the  author  have  imparted  to  his 
historical  work  a  permanent  attraction." 

John  Fiske.—  A  native  of  New  England,  born  at  Hartford, 
Conn.,  1842;  studied  the  classics  and  law  at  Harvard  Uni- 
versity ;  held  position  of  Librarian  and  Professor  of  Philosophy 
at  Harvard  for  many  years.  His  writings  belong  to  the  de- 
partments of  history,  philosophy,  and  criticism.  His  chief 
works  are  the  "  American  Revolution  "  and  the  "  Beginnings 
of  New  England." 


ANALYSIS  OF  PROSE-FORMS 

Criticism  by  the  Editor1  of  this  Manual. — <k  The  name  of 
John  Fiske  is  familiar  to  every  American  school  boy.  As  a 
painstaking,  conscientious  historian  he  has  few  equals  in  the 
field  of  historical  inquiry.  Self-reliance,  a  freedom  from  preju- 
dice, the  very  freshness  of  life,  are  characteristics  which  impress 
the  reader  at  once;  add  to  them  the  charm  of  a  style  flexible, 
vivid,  picturesque,  meeting  all  the  requirements  of  historical 
narrative  and  description.  Readers  may  differ  from  him  in 
matters  of  evolution  and  theology,  but  all  must  be  fascinated  by 
his  manner  of  treating  historical  subjects." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE  ORATION 

The  oration  is  called  a  standard  prose- form ;  it  is  recognized 
as  such  in  all  ancient  and  modern  literature.  It  has  always 
been  a  distinct  division  of  prose;  although  oratory  has  found 
occasional  expression  in  history,  in  the  drama  and  the  epic. 
The  term,  oration,  is  selected  in  preference  to  speech,  discourse, 
or  address ;  although  these  words  are  often  used  as  synonyms. 
There  are  two  reasons  for  this  selection.  First,  the  word, 
oration,  in  its  widest  meaning,  embraces  all  the  work  done  in 
this  prose  division  —  whatever  is  written  or  prepared  for  pub- 
lic delivery.  For  example,  Lord  Bacon  writes  in  the  Ad- 
vancement of  Learning :  "  Orations  are  pleadings,  speeches, 
invectives,  apologies,  laudations,  polemics  and  the  like." 
Macaulay  in  his  work  on  the  Athenian  orators,  writes :  "  The 
Greek  oration  from  its  humble  beginnings  in  the  Agora  be- 
came the  most  powerful  weapon  against  the  encroachments 
of  tyranny."  A  second  reason  for  its  employment :  the  term, 
oration,  more  strongly  than  any  other,  connotes  the  best  liter- 
ary work  done  by  the  orator.  In  the  strictest  sense  it  stands 
for  the  most  elaborate  effort  of  the  public  speaker.  Hence, 
modern  volumes  of  this  species  of  prose  are  called  orations 
rather  than  addresses,  discourses,  or  speeches;  and  the  term, 
oration,  is  selected  to  represent  this  prose-form  in  literature. 

The  Oration  Defined. —  The  oration  is  a  finished  prose  com- 
position intended  for  public  delivery.  It  is  prepared  for  some 
special  occasion ;  hence,  it  is  the  best  literary  work  of  the  ora- 

263 


264  THE  ORATION 

tor.  It  involves  the  art  of  writing,  and  thus  differs  from 
oratory  which  is  concerned  with  the  art  of  interpreting  to  an 
audience  what  is  written.  Oratory  is  concerned  with  voice, 
gesture,  manner  —  the  personal  appearance  of  the  orator ;  the 
oration  is  his  literary  product. 

The  Oration  Compared  with  the  Essay. —  The  oration  is 
similar  to  the  essay  in  three  particulars.  First,  in  its  brief- 
ness. Like  the  essay,  it  is  a  minor  prose-form.  However 
elaborate  or  finished  an  oration  may  be,  it  never  reaches  the 
proportion  of  a  volume  like  history,  biography  or  fiction. 
Hence  it  is  classified  with  the  letter  and  the  essay  as  a  minor 
prose-form.  A  second  similarity :  the  oration,  like  the  essay, 
possesses  unity  of  theme  and  methodical  development  of 
thought.  Hence  both  are  fundamentally  artistic.  A  final 
similarity :  the  oration,  like  the  essay,  demands  the  highest 
kind  of  literary  talent.  The  orations  holding  a  permanent 
place  in  literature  are  invariably  the  work  of  superior  talent. 

Some  Differences. — The  oration  differs  from  the  essay  in  five 
particulars.  First,  in  purpose.  The  oration  is  intended  to 
be  spoken ;  the  essay,  to  be  read.  The  one  appeals  to  the  ear ; 
the  other,  to  the  eye.  Hence  the  oration  must  be  so  com- 
posed as  to  accomplish  its  purpose  immediately ;  whereas,  the 
essay  admits  of  re-reading  and  careful  survey.  A  second 
difference :  the  oration  differs  from  the  essay  in  power  of  ap- 
peal. Its  success  depends  largely  upon  its  power  of  arousing 
emotion  in  an  audience.  Hence,  the  art-content  of  an  oration 
differs  not  in  kind,  but  in  degree,  from  that  of  the  essay. 
Sublimity,  humor,  feeling,  in  fact  all  the  elements  of  art-con- 
tent are  present  in  a  larger  degree,  and  their  presence  makes 
the  oration  a  higher  grade  of  literature  than  the  essay.  A 
third  difference :  the  orator  is  permitted  to  repeat  his  thoughts 
until  they  are  driven  home  and  the  required  emotion  is  aroused. 


THE  ORATION  26$ 

The  orator's  success  depends  largely  upon  the  skill  with  which 
these  repetitions  are  made.  Such  repetitions  would  spoil  the 
style  of  an  essay.  For  example,  the  chief  defect  in  Matthew 
Arnold's  essays  is  the  needless  repetition  of  ideas.  Aristotle 
speaks  about  the  orator's  gift  of  tautology;  and  all  critics 
agree  on  this  point,  that  in  the  oration  the  same  ideas  must 
be  repeated  in  different  words ;  the  same  thoughts  must  be 
restated  until  the  orator  is  sure  that  he  has  made  the  necessary 
impression.  Among  orators  Cicero  excels  for  this  talent  of 
iteration  —  of  repeating  the  same  thought  in  diversified  forms. 
This  repetition,  which  is  a  merit  in  the  oration,  would  be  a 
serious  defect  in  any  other  department  of  literature.  A  fourth 
difference  between  the  oration  and  the  essay:  this  difference 
is  vividness  of  style.  The  oration  makes  a  stronger  appeal 
to  the  emotions  than  does  the  essay;  hence  the  style  of  the 
former  is  characterized  by  frequent  inversions,  striking  figures, 
by  question  marks  and  exclamations,  by  all  the  arts  which 
make  language  impressive.  This  vividness  of  style  is  foreign 
to  the  essay,  and  out  of  place  in  any  prose  composition  except 
the  oration.  The  fifth  difference  between  the  oration  and  the 
essay  lies  in  the  plan  or  outline  which  the  writer  follows.  The 
plan  of  the  oration  is  more  complex,  more  elaborate;  the  nat- 
ural divisions  of  the  theme  are  treated  in  a  more  formal  way. 
If  we  compare  the  introduction  of  the  essay  with  the  intro- 
duction of  the  oration,  this  point  of  difference  will  appear. 
The  orator  usually  recognizes  his  audience;  the  essayist  as  a 
rule  proceeds  directly  to  the  development  of  the  theme. 

Characteristics  of  the  Introduction. —  An  immediate  recog- 
nition of  the  audience  is  required  by  the  plan  and  purpose  of 
an  oration.  "  From  the  outset/'  says  Aristotle,  "  the  purpose  is 
to  gain  admission,  as  it  were,  into  the  mind  of  the  audience, 
and  to  establish  a  bond  of  sympathy  between  speaker  and 
hearer.  For,  without  some  bond  of  sympathy  and  good  feel- 


266  THE  ORATION 

ing,  an  audience  will  not  be  open  to  enlightenment  or  persua- 
sion." Quintilian  writes :  "  In  giving  an  introduction  to  his 
speech  the  orator  must  have  as  his  object  the  preparation  of 
his  hearers  to  listen  more  readily  and  attentively."  On  the 
other  hand,  the  essayist  assumes  that  his  work  will  be  read; 
he  makes  no  special  effort  either  in  the  opening  paragraph  or 
in  any  other  part  to  win  recognition.  His  appeal  is  intel- 
lectual rather  than  emotional.  He  relies  upon  his  literary 
reputation  or  upon  the  popularity  of  the  magazine  wherein 
his  work  appears.  The  purpose  of  an  introduction  in  oratory 
is  to  win  the  audience  as  well  as  to  introduce  a  subject  for 
discussion.  Hence,  the  introduction  of  the  theme  amounts 
to  the  introduction  of  a  public  speaker.  And  the  speaker  in 
his  opening  words  must  reveal  certain  qualities  in  order  to 
gain  admission  into  the  mind  and  heart  of  his  audience. 

Qualities  Required.— Among  these  qualities  the  first  one 
favorably  to  impress  an  audience  is  calmness  in  manner  and 
in  language.  Calmness  implies  strength,  self-reliance,  a  mas- 
tery of  the  situation.  Calmness  at  once  disposes  the  audience 
favorably  toward  the  speaker.  Calmness  in  language  is  de- 
manded in  an  introduction,  because  the  audience  at  the  begin- 
ning is  passionless,  unmoved.  Emotion  is  to  be  aroused  by 
gradual  and  growing  appeals;  hence,  the  vivid  style  which 
characterizes  other  parts  of  the  oration  is  not  a  characteristic 
of  the  introduction.  The  style  employed  is  plain,  simple,  with- 
out ornament;  giving  no  expression  to  vehemence  or  passion. 

An  Exception. —  When  the  emotion  of  the  audience  is  already 
aroused  before  the  speaker  begins,  then  the  calm,  formal  in- 
troduction is  changed  to  an  immediate,  emotional  appeal.  For 
example,  the  orations  of  Mirabeau  during  the  French  Revolu- 
tion ;  the  orations  of  Cicero  during  the  Catilinian  rebellion ; 
the  orations  of  Wendell  Phillips  during  the  slavery  agitation. 


TH£  ORATION  267 

These,  however,  are  exceptional  cases;  the  orator  as  a  rule 
must  arouse  the  audience  gradually ;  he  begins  calmly  and 
proceeds  with  an  ever-increasing  warmth  and  vehemence. 

Seriousness. —  The  second  quality  of  an  orator  revealed  by 
the  introduction  is  seriousness.  This  quality  is  indispensable 
if  the  orator  would  exercise  any  considerable  influence  over 
his  hearers.  The  subjects  of  the  best  orations  do  not  offer 
any  room  for  levity  or  pleasantry.  They  are  subjects  con- 
nected with  temporal  or  spiritual  salvation,  or  they  repre- 
sent great  crises  in  life;  and  hence  from  the  very  outset  the 
audience  looks  for  seriousness  in  the  speaker.  Quintilian 
writes :  "  Only  a  serious,  earnest,  speaker  can  convince  or  per- 
suade an  audience  when  great  interests  are  at  stake."  The 
pulpit  orator  above  all  others,  says  Fenelon,  is  required  to  be 
serious.  On  his  word  depends  the  salvation  of  souls.  Hence, 
an  amusing  story,  an  anecdote  or  pleasantry  of  any  kind  must 
be  kept  out  of  the  introduction  in  the  highest  type  of  the  ora- 
tion. There  are  certain  classes  of  oratory  in  which  pleasantry 
is  suitable  in  the  introduction  and  throughout  the  speech ;  but 
seriousness  in  word  and  in  manner  is  demanded  on  all  impor- 
tant occasions. 

Politeness. —  The  third  quality  that  an  introduction  should 
reveal  is  politeness.  In  the  introduction  of  a  speech  an  audi- 
ence discovers  at  once  whether  the  speaker  is  arrogant  or 
proud  or  ill-mannered.  An  audience,  like  society,  is  won  by 
a  display  of  politeness.  Hence,  the  opening  words  should  be 
free  from  the  slightest  trace  of  vulgarity.  Quintilian  writes : 
"  The  first  impression  that  a  speaker  makes  upon  an  audience 
ought  to  be  unmistakable  evidence  that  he  is  a  gentleman." 
Politeness  implies  two  things :  a  respect  for  ourself  and  respect 
for  the  audience.  And  unless  a  speaker  respects  both  himself 
and  his  hearers  he  cannot  hope  to  exercise  much  influence  or 


268  THE  ORATION 

accomplish  much  in  the  matter  of  persuasion.  The  form  of 
politeness  most  pleasing  to  an  audience  is  modesty  in  the  per-' 
sonal  claims  of  the  speaker.  "  Whatever  be  the  talent  or 
reputation  of  the  orator,"  says  Cicero,  "  he  cannot  afford  to 
parade  it;  he  must  exercise  a  becoming  reserve.  Affectation 
of  any  kind  ruins  an  orator  as  it  does  an  actor."  Cicero 
among  the  ancients,  the  French  among  modern  orators, 
showed  the  greatest  respect  for  the  audience.  Their  exor- 
diums are  models  of  politeness. 

The  Plan. —  The  plan  of  the  oration  differs  from  that  of 
the  essay  not  only  in  the  introduction,  but  also  in  the  perora- 
tion. The  closing  paragraph  in  an  essay  does  not  differ  from 
other  parts.  It  completes  the  development  of  the  theme;  but 
there  is  no  change  in  the  style,  and  there  is  no  purpose  re- 
quiring special  treatment  of  the  subject.  But  there  is  a  special 
purpose  which  the  orator  seeks  to  accomplish  in  the  perora- 
tion. At  the  beginning,  there  is  a  direct  effort  to  win  the 
audience;  at  the  close,  there  is  an  effort  to  leave  a  lasting  im- 
pression. Hence",  the  closing  part  is  written  in  a  style  ex- 
tremely vivid.  It  is  the  best  piece  of  writing  in  the  composi- 
tion. It  is  a  summary  of  thought,  a  climax  of  feeling,  and 
the  literary  form  is  the  most  highly  finished  of  which  the 
speaker  is  capable.  Aristotle  sums  up  the  purpose  of  a  per- 
oration as  follows :  "  In  the  peroration  the  orator  endeavors 
for  the  last  time  to  dispose  the  hearers  favorably  toward  views 
or  opinions  already  expressed ;  he  summarizes  the  chief  points 
in  the  oration  and  places  his  hearers  under  the  influence  of  the 
passions;  so  that  they  feel  most  keenly  pity,  terror,  hatred, 
emulation.  He  places  that  idea  last  upon  which  the  strength 
of  his  case  should  rest." 

Appeal  to  the  Passions. —  The  plan  of  an  oration,  unlike 
the  plan  of  an  essay  or  of  any  other  prose-form,  makes  the 


THE  ORATION"  269 

largest  provision  for  the  excitement  of  the  passions;  and  the 
art  displayed  in  this  excitement  is  so  subtle  and  complex  as 
to  place  the  oration  among  the  highest  grades  of  literature. 
The  passions  are  the  springs  of  human  action.  Men  cannot 
be  persuaded  unless  their  passions  are  stirred.  An  orator 
cannot  control  his  audience  or  persuade  men  to  act  unless  he 
plays  upon  their  feelings  and  emotions.  This  part,  called  the 
pathetic  part  in  the  oration,  is  the  most  difficult  to  handle. 
Hence,  Cicero  writes :  "  The  highest  power  of  an  orator  con- 
sists in  exciting  the  minds  of  men  to  anger  or  to  hatred  or  to 
grief,  or  in  recalling  them  from  these  more  violent  emotions 
to  gentleness  and  compassion."  On  the  necessity  of  exciting 
the  passions  Aristotle  writes :  "  When  an  audience  has  been 
brought  to  a  state  of  excitement,  then  persuasion  is  effected, 
but  not  till  then."  Quintilian  bears  the  same  testimony  to 
the  pathetic  part  of  an  oration :  "  Throughout  the  whole  of 
an  oration  there  is^  room  for  addresses  to  the  feelings;  nor 
does  the  art  of  oratory  present  any  subject  that  requires 
greater  study;  for  the  nature  of  the  feelings  is  varied  and 
should  be  treated  with  the  greatest  care."  As  to  other  parts 
of  the  oration,  moderate  and  limited  powers  of  mind  will  do. 
For  example,  the  establishment  of  proofs  —  the  appeal  to 
reason  and  to  the  intellect  —  these  things  are  of  minor  im- 
portance as  compared  -with  the  power  to  make  an  audience 
weep  or  feel  angry  or  respond  to  any  other  emotion.  Yet 
it  is  this  power  that  is  supreme  in  oratory.  The  very  life  and 
soul  of  eloquence  are  shown  in  the  effect  produced  on  the 
feelings. 

Ways  of  Exciting  the  Passions. —  Various  are  the  ways  of 
exciting  and  controlling  the  feelings  of  an  audience.  The  foun- 
dation of  all  successful  literary  work  in  the  way  of  the  pathetic 
is  to  place  in  concrete  form,  to  paint  in  words,  those  objects 
which  excite  passion.  This  is  called  pictorial  work  in  an  ora- 


270  THE  ORATION 

tion.  For  example,  the  parables  in  the  teaching  of  the  Savior. 
Picltorial  work  ranks  first  in  this  connection,  because  it  appeals 
to  the  multitude  untrained  in  the  development  of  abstract 
ideas.  The  multitude  cannot  follow  a  line  of  abstract  reason- 
ing without  frequent  and  suitable  illustration.  A  picture  like 
the  parable  is  necessary  to  stamp  a  truth  on  the  mind  of  the 
people.  Pictorial  work  in  the  oration  embraces  all  the  meth- 
ods, whereby  ideas  are  made  concrete ;  hence,  metaphor,  simile, 
personification,  all  the  figures  of  speech  are  pressed  into  serv- 
ice. 

Scope. —  Pictorial  work  in  the  oration  will  also  include  the 
illustrious  events  and  characters  of  history.  The  orator  de- 
pends as  much  upon  the  concrete  examples  of  history  as  upon 
figures  of  speech.  For  instance,  in  sermon  literature,  the  pic- 
torial work  dealing  with  the  lives  of  the  martyrs  or  with 
scenes  of  early  conflict  in  Galilee,  Greece  or  Rome.  Pictures 
from  history  make  a  powerful  appeal  to  the  emotions,  espe- 
cially when  they  are  drawn  from  the  history  of  one's  own 
country  or  when  they  concern  objects  made  sacred  by  religion. 
Pictorial  work  in  the  oration  owes  a  debt  not  only  to  history, 
but  to  the  drama  and  the  epic.  The  orator  has  always  drawn 
heavily  upon  these  sources.  The  department  of  literature 
represented  by  the  oration,  is  perhaps  the  heaviest  borrower 
in  the  matter  of  classic  pictures.  Milton  and  the  tragedies 
of  Shakespeare  furnish  the  best  pictorial  work  we  have  in 
English.  English  orators  like  Burke,  Webster  and  Chatham 
show  the  greatest  familiarity  with  the  dramas  of  Greece,  and 
the  epics  of  Virgil  and  Homer. 

Modern  Use. —  Pictorial  work  in  the  modern  oration  is 
characterized  by  briefness. .  The  picture  is  drawn  in  a  few 
lines,  where  the  orators  of  a  century  ago  would  devote  as 
many  pages.  Pictorial  work  in  a  large  measure  is  required 


THE  ORATION  27 1 

from  the  American  orator.  Our  pulpit  or  platform  oration 
when  successful,  contains  a  wealth  of  illustration.  An  Eng- 
lish audience  demands  less  pictorial  work.  For  example,  the 
parochial  sermons  of  Newman  and  Lidclon  would  be  failures, 
if  preached  to  American  audiences.  Plainness  and  freedom 
from  illustration  satisfy  the  unimaginative  English  mind. 

Value. —  Concerning  pictorial  work,  Quintilian  writes : 
"  Whosoever  shall  best  conceive  images  that  will  represent 
to  the  mind  of  the  audience  absent  objects,  will  have  the 
greatest  power  in  moving  the  feelings.  This  power  depends 
upon  the  fertility  and  the  vividness  of  the  orator's  imagina- 
tion. Hence  the  public  speaker  without  imaginative  power 
is  of  a  certainty  doomed  to  failure."  Aristotle  advises  the 
greatest  care  in  the  training  of  the  imagination  for  those  who 
aim  at  becoming  public  speakers.  He  writes :  "  All  audiences 
delight  in  surveying  images,  and  they  are  moved  far  more  by 
impressive  imagery  than  by  any  mental  work  in  an  oration ; 
because  it  is  not  by  naked,  bold,  statements  of  fact,  but  by 
pictures  that  make  them  see  the  facts,  that  assemblies  are 
moved."  Accordingly,  among  figures  of  speech  the  metaphor 
is  the  orator's  figure. 

The  Demand  for  Such  Work. —  Frequent  and  suitable  illus- 
trations are  demanded  in  the  oration  addressed  to  the  multi- 
tude. The  orator  meets  this  demand  in  two  ways.  He  offers 
the  work  done  by  others,  or  his  own  work.  The  best  speakers 
have  adopted  both  methods.  For  example,  in  the  Bunker 
Hill  oration  by  Webster,  there  is  the  picture  of  Columbus  on 
the  deck  of  a  vessel ;  the  picture  of  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill ; 
the  picture  of  American  prosperity  —  all  drawn  by  himself  - 
all  original.  There  are  also  pictures  from  classic  sources: 
Milton,  Virgil,  and  Homer  are  quoted  literally.  A  speaker  is 
permitted  to  take  a  picture  bodily  from  any  source  whatso- 


272  THE  ORATION 

ever,  providing  the  borrowed  work  will  illustrate  his  theme. 
And  it  is  not  necessary  to  give  credit  to  the  original  author, 
as  in  other  departments  of  literature. 

Use  of  Poetry. —  The  employment  of  pictorial  work  done 
in  poetry  is  an  old  custom  with  orators.  Cicero  recommends 
the  study  of  poetry  for  the  sake  of  imagery  and  illustration, 
because  in  this  regard  poetry  bears  the  closest  affinity  to  ora- 
tory. A  favorite  method  with  preachers  is  to  paraphrase  the 
psalms  and  other  pictorial  work  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  turn- 
ing into  prose  and  retaining  the  Biblical  language  of  such 
pieces  as  suit  the  sermon.  For  example,  in  Newman  these 
paraphrases  not  only  of  psalms,  but  of  other  Biblical  passages, 
occur  constantly.  Another  method  followed  by  preachers  is 
to  take  bodily  the  illustrations  found  in  sermon-volumes  —  the 
work  of  other  clergymen.  A  sermon  written  by  a  first-class 
author  in  any  language  is  certain  to  contain  some  useful  illus- 
trations in  the  shape  of  texts  or  figures  of  speech.  Sermons 
on  the  same  subject  by  different  clergymen  will  yield  an  abun- 
dance of  pictorial  work.  Kence,  the  necessity  of  reading  ser- 
mon literature,  an  extensive  knowledge  of  which  is  the  best 
equipment  for  the  pulpit. 

Original  Work. —  The  orator  must  depend  upon  his  own 
illustrations  as  well  as  upon  those  furnished  from  various 
literary  sources.  The  work  done  by  others  may  be  extensive 
and  abundant;  nevertheless,  he  cannot  always  depend  upon 
such  sources;  they  are  not  always  at  hand.  Illustrations  de- 
mand a  careful  training  in  descriptive  writing;  because  they 
are,  for  the  most  part,  of  a  descriptive  character.  In  this  work 
the  oration  requires  the  greatest  brevity  and  vividness.  Hence, 
the  orator  should  be  a  trained  writer  in  all  kinds  of  descriptive 
work.  To  draw  a  picture  in  words  requires  almost  as  much 
skill  as  to  draw  it  in  colors.  It  is  the  testimony  of  all  speak- 


THE  ORATION  273 

ers  of  eminence  that  years  of  practice  in  composition  are  neces- 
sary before  one  can  effectively  illustrate  a  sermon  or  an  ora- 
tion. 

A  Two-fold  Need. —  Without  careful  literary  training,  this 
material  cannot  be  used  to  advantage,  and  hence  among  the 
qualifications  of  a  successful  speaker,  two  are  worthy  of 
special  emphasis :  extensive  reading  with  a  view  to  collect  and 
employ  the  illustrations  found  in  the  various  departments  of 
literature;  secondly,  a  careful  training  in  composition  enabling 
the  speaker  to  prepare  the  raw  material  and  supply  his  own 
illustration.  Quintilian  writes :  "  In  order  to  gain  a  mastery 
over  illustration,  which  means  in  turn  a  mastery  over  the 
audience,  two  kinds  of  work  are  required:  the  labor  of  crit- 
ical reading  and  the  greater  labor  of  careful  writing.  Illus- 
trations will  never  be  forcible  or  energetic  unless  they  acquire 
strength  from  great  practice  in  both  reading  and  writing. 
For  the  labor  of  writing,  if  left  destitute  of  models  from  read- 
ing, passes  away  without  effect,  as  having  no  director.  Read- 
ing supplies  the  models  for  imitation;  and  writing  enables  us 
to  make  our  own  illustration  as  strong  and  effective  as  the 
model  we  imitate."  Cicero  observes :  "  What  is  so  pleasant 
to  be  heard  and  understood  as  an  oration  adorned  and  pol- 
ished, enriched  with  varied  and  beautiful  illustrations;  what, 
on  the  contrary,  is  so  disappointing  and  barren  as  an  oration 
without  such  ornament?" 


CHAPTER  XXXV 
THE  ORATION   (CONTINUED) 
ARGUMENT   IN    THE  ORATION 

Argument,  like  pictorial  work,  occupies  a  large  place  in  the 
oration.  It  comes  first  in  the  order  of  development;  and  by 
some  critics  is  ranked  first  in  importance.  Its  importance  is  de- 
termined to  some  extent  by  the  species  of  oration.  For  ex- 
ample, an  oration  in  defense  of  some  criminal  at  the  bar  of 
justice;  an  oration  in  praise  of  some  hero.  Argument  in  the 
oration  is  an  appeal  to  reason;  just  as  pictorial  work  is  an 
appeal  to  the  emotions.  The  selection  and  arrangement  of 
arguments  require  as  much  care  as  the  selection  of  suitable 
illustrations.  Truths  may  be  presented  to  an  audience  in  two 
ways :  first,  in  an  abstract  form,  appealing  directly  to  the  in- 
tellect, and  aiming  at  conviction ;  secondly,  in  a  concrete  form, 
appealing  to  the  emotions  and  aiming  at  persuasion.  The 
usual  method  in  the  oration  is  to  state  truths  in  the  abstract 
form  and  then  to  apply  illustrations,  thus  giving  the  same 
truth  a  concrete  form.  Two  examples  —  Newman  writes : 
'  Theologians  are  apt  to  be  lacking  in  the  acquisition  of  sci- 
ence." The  same  truth  follows  in  concrete  form:  "St. 
Augustine  and  St.  Thomas  knew  less  about  science  than  a 
modern  peasant."  Lacordaire  writes  :  "  The  Justice  of  God 
will  prevail ;  "  immediately  afterward,  in  concrete  form,  "  Con- 
sider the  fiery  furnace  of  Hell  where  fallen  men  and  angels 
writhe  in  torment."  When  argument  takes  the  abstract  form 
it  is  occupied  with  principles,  with  genus  and  species,  cause 

274 


ARGUMENT  IN  THE  ORATION  275 

and  effect.  Inasmuch  as  it  is  applied  logic,  it  employs  the 
abstract  vocabulary  of  logic;  and,  in  every  premise  and  infer- 
ence, appeals  directly  to  the  intellect.  Hence,  argument  exer- 
cises the  reasoning  power  of  an  orator;  just  as  illustration  or 
pictorial  work  employs  his  imaginative  power. 

The    Demands    of    Argument. —  Argument    involves    both 
philosophy  and  rhetoric ;  philosophy,  because  its  very  existence 
depends  upon  that  part  of  philosophy  known  as  logic.     And 
after   arguments    are   constructed,    rhetoric   determines   their 
order  and  arrangement  in  the  oration.     Rhetoric  determines 
the  place  in  the  speech  where  they  will  be  most  effective,  and 
the  style  and  manner  of  expression.     A  debate  among  ancient 
critics  took  place  over  the  relative  value  of  philosophy  and 
rhetoric  in  the  making  of  an  orator.     Aristotle  quarreled  with 
the   Rhetoricians   of  Greece.     He  declared   that   philosophy, 
inasmuch    as    it    discovered    the    sources    and    aided    in    the 
construction  of  argument,  was  of  more  value  to  a  speaker  than 
rhetoric  which  merely  arranged  the  argument  and  supplied 
suitable  expression.     The  Rhetoricians  contended  that  unless 
the  arguments  were  properly  arranged  and  most  forcibly  ex- 
pressed, they  might  as  well  be  omitted  from  a  speech.     The 
appeal  would  be  lost  upon  the  audience.     Cicero,  in  summar- 
izing the  needs  of  an  orator,  places  logic  first.     He  writes : 
'  The  orator  ought  to  have  the  subtlety  of  the  dialectician,  the 
grasp  of  a  philosopher,  the  diction  of  a  poet,  the  voice  and 
gesture  of  the  greatest  actors."     The  amount  of  abstract  rea- 
soning in  an  oration  will  be  determined  by  the  character  of  the 
audience;  a  highly  educated  audience  can  follow  it  without 
much  need  of  illustration.     Hence,  in  orations  before  learned 
bodies,  in  all  academic  speaking,  arguments  are  advanced  in 
abstract  form,  demonstrating  that  which  is  true,  but  in  a  man- 
ner dry.  bare  and  exact.     The  speaker  proceeds  in  correct 
syllogistic  form,  and  with  mathematical  precision.     Very  little 


276  THE  ORATION 

else  is  given  to  the  audience  except  the  solid  proofs  of  the 
proposition. 

Logic  and  the  Masses. —  The  abstract  method  of  reasoning 
cannot  be  followed  with  success  when  a  speaker  addresses  the 
uneducated  masses.  The  common  people  do  not  understand 
abstractions.  The  terminology  of  the  schools  is  a  foreign  lan- 
guage to  them ;  they  demand  that  the  speaker  lay  aside  those 
terms v  and  employ  a  language  known  to  all  —  words  making 
a  universal  appeal ;  they  demand  that  rhetoric  be  added  to 
philosophy,  not  only  in  the  construction  and  arrangement  of 
arguments,  but  also,  that  each  of  these  arguments  be  driven 
home  by  a  number  of  forcible  illustrations.  For  them  the 
skeleton  of  thought  requires  flesh  and  blood.  For  example, 
the  New  Testament  reveals  the  proper  method  and  the  proper 
language  to  use  in  speaking  to  the  multitude.  We  cannot 
improve  upon  the  method  employed  by  the  great  Teacher  of 
humanity. 

Kinds  of  Argument  Employed. —  Among  the  various  kinds 
of  argument  three  are  found  most  frequently  in  the  oration. 
First,  the  abridged  syllogism  used  in  all  kinds  of  deductive 
reasoning.  The  public  speaker  gives  the  syllogism  a  literary 
treatment.  He  argues  extra  formam.  He  cuts  out  either  the 
major  or  the  minor  premise;  and  in  doing  so  destroys  the 
formalism  of  logic;  yet  the  abridged  syllogism  is  none  the 
less  effective.  An  example :  "  The  human  soul  is  a  sub- 
stance essentially  spiritual ;  hence,  it  is  immortal."  Sometimes 
the  whole  syllogism  is  expressed  in  a  single  proposition.  For 
example,  "  A  just  God  punishes  crime."  The  abridgment 
of  the  syllogism  is  usually  accompanied  by  an  extended  para- 
phrase of  the  premise  expressed.  For  example,  Newman 
frequently  devotes  a  paragraph  to  the  amplification  of  a  major 
or  a  minor  premise.  And  in  the  paragraph  immediately  fol- 


ARGUMENT  IN  Till'  ORATION  277 

lowing,  gives  a  similar  expansion  to  his  inference  or  conclu- 
sion. The  public  speaker  may  express  both  the  major  and 
minor  of  a  syllogism,  but  he  never  does  so  in  a  formal  way. 
He  adds  to  each  some  amplification,  either  a  proof  or  an  expo- 
sition of  the  major  or  minor,  and  as  in  the  case  of  an  abridged 
syllogism,  a  paragraph  or  more  may  be  devoted  to  each  major 
or  minor.  Aristotle  writes  concerning  the  abridged  syllo- 
gism :  "  It  is  the  very  body  of  proof  in  the  oration.  When 
one  of  the  premises  is  not  expressed,  but  understood,  the  style 
of  the  reasoner  is  rendered  more  natural  and  more  in  accord- 
ance with  the  demands  of  the  popular  assembly.  The  sword 
of  the  dialectician  is  hidden;  only  the  velvet  scabbard  ap- 
pears." 

The  Dilemma. —  The  dilemma  is  an  argument  frequently 
used  by  the  orator.  It  consists  of  two  or  more  alternatives 
presented  to  an  adversary,  and  then  follows  a  refutation  of 
any  he  may  select.  Polemic  oratory  is  filled  with  dilemmas. 
The  great  controversialists  of  the  past  used  the  dilemma  as  a 
favorite  argument.  A  modern  example :  Mr.  Bryan  thus 
addresses  the  Republicans:  "If  you  hold  the  Filipinos,  you 
must  hold  them  either  as  citizens  or  as  subjects.  But  you 
cannot  hold  them  as  citizens  without  admitting  them  to  a 
plane  of  equality  with  Americans;  you  cannot  hold  them  as 
subjects  without  overthrowing  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States."  The  dilemma  is  not  so  popular  now  in  the  modern 
pulpit,  because  the  pulpit  has  grown  less  controversial.  The 
sermon  literature  of  the.  Reformation  period  and  down  to  the 
middle  of  the  present  century  is  full  of  the  dilemma. 

Arguments  from  Example. —  The  third  kind  of  argument 
employed  most  frequently  by  the  public  speaker  is  the  argu- 
ment from  example.  It  is  a  form  of  inductive  reasoning  that 
appeals  to  the  multitude;  because  all  men  are  constantly  em- 


278  THE  ORATION 

ploying  it.  It  is  the  source  of  many  popular  fallacies  owing 
to  the  hasty  and  incomplete  generalization  which  character- 
izes the  popular  employment  of  this  method.  People  often 
draw  a  general  conclusion  from  one  or  two  examples ;  when  a 
hundred  examples  might  be  cited,  proving  the  contrary.  It 
was  a  recognition  of  this  popular  weakness  to  leap  at  general 
conclusions,  that  drew  forth  the  awful  condemnation  of  the  one 
by  whom  scandal  cometh.  In  the  moral  order  no  argument 
is  more  powerful  for  good  or  evil  than  the  one  drawn  from 
human  example.  Hence,  the  trite  maxim  of  Cicero :  "  Ex- 
empla  trahunt  "< —  Examples  compel  attention.  Witness  the 
influence  of  example  upon  religious  and  political  life ;  how  the 
multitude  may  be  drawn  into  error  and  held  in  error  by  the 
example  of  a  few  illustrious  men.  Hence,  among  the  various 
equipments  of  the  orator  ancient  critics  insist  upon  the  study 
of  biography  —  a  knowledge  of  those  human  examples  which 
may  be  employed  with  such  telling  effect.  And  Fenelon,  in 
his  treatise  on  pulpit  eloquence,  places  the  study  of  religious 
biography  next  to  that  of  philosophy,  so  powerful  is  the  ex- 
ample of  the  illustrious  dead  in  the  church  to  convince  and 
persuade  the  living. 

Kinds  of  Argument. —  The  common  means  of  argument 
and  persuasion  are  two —  the  example,  and  the  abridged 
syllogism.  Of  examples,  there  are  two  species ;  one  species  is 
the  quoting  of  real  matters  of  fact,  the  events  of  time  as  they 
have  actually  happened;  the  other  species  is  the  fabrification 
of  examples  by  the  speaker.  One  species  deals  with  fact ;  the 
other,  with  fable  or  fiction. 

Fictitious  Example. —  Both  ancient  and  modern  orators 
made  considerable  use  of  the  fable  or  fictitious  example.  Par- 
ables are  fictitious  examples  which  serve  as  well  as  those  based 
on  fact.  Pulpit  orators  have  always  employed  fictitious  ex- 


ARGUMENT  IN  THE  ORATION  279 

amples.  For  example,  experiences  in  their  own  lives  or  in  the 
lives  of  others  which  are  purely  fanciful;  yet  illustrate  or  en- 
force some  lesson.  On  the  construction  of  fables  Aristotle 
writes :  "  A  speaker  in  bringing  forward  such  fictitious  work, 
should  use  for  a  model  those  examples  that  are  actual  fact.  In 
the  fable  there  should  be  all  the  force  of  probability,  all  the 
appearance  of  truth."  For  example,  "  The  sower  who  went 
forth  to  sow,  scattering  grain  on  poor  and  stony  soil  " ;  le- 
gends concerning  the  martyrs,  illustrating  their  courage  and 
constancy.  It  is  essential  to  all  good  fiction  to  resemble  fact 
and  truth ;  and  fictitious  examples  in  the  oration  are  no  excep- 
tion to  this  rule. 

Example  as  a  Basis  of  Argument. —  The  example,  whether 
real  or  fictitious,  is  the  basis  of  several  kinds  of  argument. 
The  first  kind  is  the  general  law  or  principle  which  is  con- 
firmed by  the  various  examples  adduced;  they  are  either  ad- 
duced as  positive  proof  of  a  general  proposition,  or  a  general 
proposition  is  inferred  from  a  number  of  them.  In  the  first 
case  they  are  used  as  a  corroboration  of  the  general  law  or 
principle;  in  the  second  case  they  are  employed  like  the  data 
of  any  science;  they  are  the  material  for  inductive  reasoning. 
This  is  the  ordinary  way  of  employing  examples.  Another 
kind  of  argument  based  upon  example  is  called  analogy. 
Analogy  is  founded  upon  agreement,  likeness,  resemblance. 
A  resemblance  between  two  things  may  be  so  great  as  to  war- 
rant us  in  inferring  that  the  resemblance  extends  beyond  our 
actual  knowledge.  For  example,  the  agreement  that  the  plan- 
ets around  us  are  inhabited  is  an  argument  from  analogy; 
because  they  resemble  the  earth  in  shape,  movement,  atmos- 
phere, illumination,  we  infer  that  they  also  resemble  the  earth 
in  the  matter  of  inhabitants.  One  sentence  in  Patrick  Henry's 
famous  speech  contains  an  argument  from  analogy :  "  Caesar 


280  THE  ORATION 

had  his  Brutus;  Charles  the  First,  his  Cromwell;  and  George 
the  Third  may  profit  by  their  example/' 

Abundance  of  Analogy. —  The  world  is  filled  with  analo- 
gies, with  objects  bearing  some  resemblance  or  likeness  to  one 
another;  and  hence  the  orator  has  a  wide  field  and  the  choic- 
est materials.  Perhaps  the  most  extensive  works  in  English 
literature  based  upon  analogy  are  Bishop  Butler's  Analogies 
between  natural  and  revealed  religion ;  and  Henry  Drummond's 
Natural  Law  and  the  Spiritual  World.  The  pulpit  orator 
uses  the  old  but  forcible  arguments  from  analogy.  The 
angels  were  all  tempted  once;  and  those  that  withstood  the 
trial  were  confirmed  in  everlasting  glory;  so  we  stand  in  re- 
lation to  the  same  goal.  The  martyrs  fought  the  same  spirit- 
ual fight  under  even  more  adverse  circumstances.  False  analo- 
gies are  as  easily  and  as  plausibly  drawn  as  false  inferences 
from  a  few  examples.  Hence,  the  sophistries  and  the  mass 
of  worthless  argument  in  the  orations  of  the  special  pleader. 

Arrangement. —  The  arrangement  of  arguments  in  the  ora- 
tion is  compared  to  that  of  men  on  a  battlefield.  It  is  the  test 
of  rhetorical  power  just  as  the  construction  of  arguments  is 
the  test  of  rational  power.  John  Quincy  Adams  in  his  Treat- 
ise on  Oratory,  writes :  '  You  can  find  a  hundred  persons 
able  to  produce  good  ideas  upon  any  subject  for 'the  one  who 
can  marshal  them  to  the  best  advantage.  Methodical  argument 
is  to  the  orator  what  tactics  are  to  military  art ;  and  as  victory 
has  almost  always  fallen  to  the  best  tactician,  so  victory  in  elo- 
quence belongs  to  him  who  can  make  the  most  methodical 
arrangement  of  his  arguments  and  ideas.  There  is  no  part 
of  the  oration  in  which  the  consummate  orator  will  be  so  de- 
cidedly manifest  as  in  this  arrangement." 

Two  Laws. —  The  various  ways  of  making  this  arrange- 
ment will  depend  in  a  measure  upon  the  kind  of  oration  and 


ARGUMENT  IN  THE  ORATION  28l 

upon  the  character  of  the  audience.  After  allowing  for  vari- 
ous circumstances,  critics  insist  upon  the  observance  of  two 
laws.  The  law  of  climax,  an  ascending  scale  of  effects;  an 
ever-increasing  strength  and  force  in  the  arguments  which 
are  advanced.  An  anti-climax  in  a  speech  is  fatal  unless  the 
speech  is  a  specimen  of  comedy.  This  law  of  climax  is  pe- 
culiar to  the  drama,  the  novel,  the  oration  and  the  epic.  The 
reader  or  hearer  must  be  carried  on  by  an  ever-increasing 
emotional  or  intellectual  appeal.  The  second  law  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  arguments  is  called  the  law  of  exclusion.  It 
is  briefly  the  rejection  of  all  kinds  of  argument  either  weak, 
or  ineffective  so  far  as  the  audience  is  concerned.  An  audi- 
ence abhors  weakness  of  any  kind  as  Nature  abhors  a  vacuum. 
Weakness  in  voice,  physique,  language  or  argument  is  always 
disappointing.  Strength  in  these  particulars  challenges  ad- 
miration and  bespeaks  an  ideal  orator.  One  of  the  most 
profitable  literary  studies  is  to  dissect  the  great  orations  and 
compare  the  amount  of  argument  with  the  amount  of  illus- 
tration, and  note  hoW  rational  and  imaginative  power  are 
combined  in  the  amplification  of  the  theme. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 
THE  ORATION   (CONTINUED) 

STYLE    IN    THE   ORATION 

Style. —  There  is  a  style  or  manner  of  writing  which  is 
peculiar  to  the  oration ;  and  this  style  contributes  in  a  large 
measure  to  the  success  of  the  public  speaker.  The  master- 
pieces of  oratory  in  all  languages  are  written  in  practically 
the  same  style.  This  style,  sometimes  called  oratorical,  is 
characterized  by  a  subtle  musical  beauty  or  cadence  running 
elusively  through  the  prose.  The  cadences  in  the  oration  are 
not  marked  by  the  sameness  of  poetic  lines ;  they  are  not  gov- 
erned like  the  regular  measures  in  poetry,  they  are  always 
wide-ranging  and  delicately  shifting,  so  as  never  to  compel 
direct  recognition.  Yet  these  prose  rhythms  are  always  sym- 
bolic of  the  mood  of  the  passage.  They  are  compared  to  tones 
which  give  to  the  human  voice  depth  and  tenderness  and  sug- 
gestiveness.  "  It  is  possible,"  says  Aristotle,  "  to  impose  upon 
a  series  of  simple  words  by  delicately  sensitive  adjustment,  a 
power  over  the  feelings  and  imagination  like  that  of  an  in- 
cantation." This  power  is  exercised  by  the  public  speaker  to 
the  fullest  extent ;  and  results  in  fastening  the  attention  of  the 
audience  upon  what  is  said.  The  best  grades  of  oratory  will 
always  include  prose  rhythm. 

Variations  of  Style. —  The  manner  of  writing  will  vary  ac- 
cording to  the  various  parts  of  the  oration  and  according  to 
the  various  classes  into  which  it  is  divided.  Each  distinct  part 

282 


STYLE  IN  THE  ORATION  283 

of  the  oration,  such  as  the  exordium,  the  argumentative  part, 
the  peroration,  will  require  a  different  style.  The  style  of  the 
exordium  is  plain,  simple,  passionless,  except  when  passion  is 
already  aroused  as  in  the  case  of  Cicero  against  Catiline.  The 
style  in  the  peroration  is  almost  the  reverse  of  this;  expres- 
sion is  taxed  to  the  utmost  in  the  final  appeal  —  all  the  wealth 
and  beauty  of  language  are  employed.  Another  contrast  of 
style  exists  between  the  argumentative  part  and  the  appeal  to 
the  emotions.  In  the  former,  there  is  the  utmost  precision  in 
thought  and  language ;  in  the  latter,  there  is  the  largest  amount 
of  freedom  in  the  literary  development  —  the  manner  of  writ- 
ing is  free  and  easy  because  the  pictorial  quality  which  arouses 
emotion  must  have  sufficient  amplification.  Thus  there  are 
sharp  contrasts  in  the  style  of  the  oration,  corresponding  to  the 
important  divisions.  A  test  of  first-class  workmanship  is  the 
power  to  vary  the  manner  of  writing  so  as  to  meet  the  re- 
quirements of  each  division.  Good  judgment  demands  these 
changes.  "  Style,"  says  Aristotle,  "  will  be  in  good  taste,  if  it 
be  not  only  expressive  of  feeling  and  character,  but  also  if  it 
be  happily  adjusted  to  the  subject-matter."  This  adjustment 
is  preserved,  if  the  style  be  neither  careless  on  questions  of  im- 
portance nor  dignified  on  such  questions  or  subjects  as  are 
mean  and  trifling.  And  a  style  which  is  thus  made  appropri- 
ate, invests  the  subject  with  persuasive  efficacy;  for  the  audi- 
ence is  thereby  cheated  into  the  persuasion  that  the  orator  is 
speaking  with  sincerity,  even  though  he  may  not  be;  because 
under  such  circumstances  men  stand  affected  in  that  manner 
and  employ  exactly  that  kind  of  style  which  he  employs. 
Moreover,  every  condition,  habit  and  emotion  of  life  must 
have  style  of  language  exactly  suited  to  it ;  for  example,  the 
audience  detects  at  once,  knows  instinctively,  the  natural  lan- 
guage of  passion ;  so  also,  the  natural  style  of  argument ; 
hence,  if  there  be  no  adjustment,  if  the  orator  keeps  one  man- 
ner of  expression,  regardless  of  the  subject-matter,  he  is  bound 


284  THE  ORATION 

to  be  judged  as  artificial  and  unnatural ;  he  loses  his  power  to 
move  the  audience  because  the  style  makes  it  impossible  for 
him  to  interpret  his  thoughts  and  emotions  aright ;  his  oratory 
becomes  idle  declamation. 

All  Orators  Alike. —  There  is  a  family  likeness  among  all 
great  orators  in  this  regard :  by  long  practice  in  composition 
they  can  adapt  their  style  of  writing  with  perfect  propriety  to 
every  shade  of  thought  and  emotion.  This  adaptation  is 
termed  the  natural  style  —  the  style  in  which  a  writer  speaks 
as  he  thinks  and  feels,  and  which  depends  on  his  temperament 
and  the  nature  of  his  subject.  Herbert  Spencer,  in  his  Philos- 
ophy of  Style,  calls  this  the  perfect  manner  of  writing.  He 
says :  '  This  style  will  sometimes  be  plain ;  sometimes  or- 
nate; sometimes  the  sentences  will  be  balanced,  and  at  other 
times  unsymmetrical ;  for  a  time  there  will  be  sameness ;  then 
great  variety ;  the  mode  of  expression  naturally  responding  to 
the  state  of  feeling  and  the  composition  changing  to  the  same 
degree  that  aspects  of  the  subject  change." 

Variations  of  Style  According  to  Species. —  The  style  of 
writing  varies,  not  only  according  to  the  various  parts  of  an 
oration,  but  also  according  to  the  various  species  into  which 
the  oration  is  divided.  In  connection  with  the  various  species 
of  the  oration,  Aristotle  specifies  three  kinds  of  style.  First, 
the  demonstrative  style.  It  is  employed  when  the  oration 
gives  blame  or  praise  to  a  particular  person.  Under  this  head 
is  included  all  panegyrics,  funeral  orations,  and  orations  on 
anniversaries,  and  at  festivals.  It  is  the  manner  of  writing 
that  belongs  to  the  pulpit.  The  second  is  called  the  delibera- 
tive style.  It  is  employed  when  the  oration  is  delivered  in 
parliament.  It  is  the  style  of  statesmen,  and  is  some'times 
called  parliamentary  oratory.  The  third  is  called  the  judicial 


/AT  THE  ORATION  285 

style.     It  is  employed  in  court  trials.     It  is  employed  in  accu- 
sation and  defense;  and  it  is  sometimes  called  forensic. 

The  Demonstrative  Style. —  The  demonstrative  style,  as 
Aristotle  terms  it,  is  employed  in  the  forum  and  in  the  pulpit 
on  great  anniversaries  and  festivals.  It  is  easily  distinguished 
from  other  forms  of  oratory.  The  epithet,  demonstrative, 
was  used  by  Aristotle  to  denote  the  prevalence  of  emotion. 
The  speaker  has  for  his  main  purpose  an  emotional  appeal. 
Hence,  Quintilian  calls  it  the  impassioned  style.  It  stands 
in  sharp  contrast  with  the  calm,  intellectual,  appeal  which 
characterizes  the  judicial  style  —  the  cold  statement  of  the  law 
and  the  evidence.  Praise  or  blame  is  the  object  of  demon- 
strative oratory.  And  the  statement  of  either  by  a  public 
speaker  is  always  attended  with  emotion.  Pulpit  oratory  is 
largely  occupied  with  praise  or  blame.  For  example,  the 
praise  of  God,  angels,  saints,  the  illustrious  dead ;  or  the  con- 
demnation of  those  whose  lives  are  evil  and  vicious. 

Emotion. —  The  chief  characteristic,  then,  of  demonstrative 
oratory  is  the  element  of  emotion.  It  is  the  work  of  the  heart, 
the  affections;  it  is  animated,  magnetic,  spirited;  the  passion 
of  the  speaker  is  communicated  to  the  audience.  It  offers  the 
widest  scope  to  applause  and  enthusiasm.  The  prose  develop- 
ment is  akin  to  the  external  progress  of  the  drama,  each  di- 
vision becoming  more  vivid  and  vital  than  the  preceding. 
Hence,  in  the  forum,  the  praise  of  the  national  hero,  amid 
increasing  enthusiasm  and  excitement;  or,  in  the  pulpit,  the 
mission  and  revival  sermon  with  their  dramatic  intensity  and 
fervor. 

Examples.— For  emotional  effect  compare  the  funeral  ora- 
tions of  Bossuet  with  the  Neglect  of  Divine  Warnings  by 
Newman;  or  the  invective  of  Demosthenes  against  Philip  of 
Macedon  with  the  invective  of  Burke  against  Warren  Hast- 


286  THE  ORATION 

ings  or  the  invective  of  Cicero  against  Verres  and  Catiline. 
Emotion  in  the  demonstrative  style  follows  two  lines :  the 
tender  and  the  pathetic;  for  example,  the  sufferings  of  the 
hero  praised ;  or,  the  bold  and  vehement,  as  the  condemnation 
of  the  criminal.  The  subject-matter  of  pulpit  oratory  contains 
the  emotional  element  in  perhaps  the  largest  measure.  For 
all  theology  centers  in  the  saddest  of  all  symbols  —  the  cross 
with  its  connotation  of  suffering,  sacrifice,  death.  There  can 
be  no v  more  powerful  appeal  than  this  to  human  emotion. 
The  subject-matter  of  pulpit  oratory  is  filled  with  sublimity; 
and  this  element  of  art-content  always  evokes  emotion.  The 
demonstrative  style  in  the  pulpit  depends  upon  the  sublime 
themes  of  the  supernatural  world;  and,  outside  the  pulpit,  on 
the  sublime  actions  of  the  human  hero.  In  either  case,  sub- 
limity plays  an  important  part  as  an  emotional  factor. 

Element  of  Power.—  A  second  characteristic  of  the  demon- 
strative style  is  the  element  of  power.  While  all  styles  of 
oratory  have  this  element  to  a  degree,  the  demonstrative  style 
possesses  it  in  the  largest  measure.  The  language  of  this  style 
is  emphatically  the  language  of  power.  This  element  is  a  ne- 
cessary consequence  of  the  presence  of  feeling.  It  follows  from 
the  appeal  to  the  emotions.  It  is  the  literary  result  of  pas- 
sion. 

Demands  of  the  Multitude.— Accordingly,  those  methods 
whereby  a  style  is  made  vivid  ( for  example,  figures  of  speech ; 
short  sentences  with  a  repetition  of  noun  and  verb;  the  most 
vigorous  illustration;  the  question  mark  and  interrogation 
and  other  rhetorical  devices,)  are  employed  by  the  speaker. 
There  is  a  freedom  from  restraint  in  the  demonstrative  style, 
as  compared  with  judicial  or  parliamentary  oratory.  The 
speaker  addresses  the  multitude,  and  hence  is  exempt  from 
the  criticism  of  learned  judges  or  select  assemblies.  The 
traditions,  customs  and  criticism  of  court  or  parliament  re- 


STYLE  JN  THE  ORATION  287 

strain  an  orator  from  exerting  his  power  to  the  utmost.  But 
the  multitude  impose  no  such  checks  or  restraints ;  they  demand 
the  language  of  power,  they  look  for  the  element  of  power 
which  characterizes  demonstrative  oratory.  This  element  of- 
ten runs  to  excess  both  in  style  and  in  delivery,  and  the  speaker 
is  applauded  and  his  purpose  accomplished ;  whereas,  such  ex- 
cess would  excite  only  derision  before  a  select  audience  —  for 
example,  a  stump  speaker  before  the  Supreme  Court. 

The  Deliberative  Style.— --The  deliberative  style  is  employed 
in  oratory,  when  the  oration  is  delivered  before  some  represen- 
tative assembly.  For  example,  a  congress  or  parliament. 
The  individual  members  of  such  an  audience  are  the  select  rep- 
resentatives of  the  people;  and  they  act,  as  a  rule,  in  some 
official  capacity.  Hence,  the  deliberative  style  of  oratory  flour- 
ishes wherever  the  people  have  full  or  partial  representative 
government.  For  example,  in  a  republic  or  limited  monarchy. 
In  modern  times,  with  the  growth  of  the  national  spirit  and 
representative  government,  every  parliament  can  boast  of  dis- 
tinguished orators.  Some  examples:  The  Spanish  Parlia- 
ment, Emil  Castelar;  the  Italian  Parliament,  Crispi;  German 
Parliament,  Windhorst;  French  Parliament,  Mirabeau;  Eng- 
lish Parliament,  Gladstone  and  O'Connell;  American  Parlia- 
ment, Webster  and  Calhoun ;  Canadian  Parliament,  Sir  John 
Macdonald  and  Wilfred  Laurier.  Every  nation  can  boast  of 
several  masters  of  the  deliberative  style.  In  the  parliaments  of 
Greece  and  Rome,  Socrates,  Demosthenes,  Cato,  and  Cicero. 

Opinions  of  This  Style. —  This  manner  of  writing  an  ora- 
tion is  partly  explained  by  the  term  deliberative.  To  deliberate 
implies  stress  on  the  rational  element;  it  indicates  the  preva- 
lence of  reason  over  emotion.  Concerning  the  language  em- 
ployed in  this  style,  Quintilian  observes :  "  The  language  ought 
to  be  uniformly  simple  and  grave,  and  more  distinguished  for 


288  THE  ORATION. 

studied  thoughts  than  for  studied  phraseology.  Canning 
writes  as  follows :  "  The  House  of  Commons  is  a  deliberative 
body  of  men,  and  the  oration  before  the  House  should  conform 
to  its  predominant  character ;  the  correct  parliamentary  speaker 
avoids  mere  ornament  and  declamation ;  or,  if  these  be  em- 
ployed at  all,  they  must  seem  to  spring  naturally  out  of  the 
subject;  the  style  should  be  that  of  an  animated  conversation 
on  public  business ;  there  must  be  method  also,  but  this  should 
be  felt  in  the  effect  rather  than  seen  in  the  manner.  No  formal 
divisions,  set  exordiums,  or  perorations,  as  the  old  rhetoricians 
taught,  will  suit  the  deliberative  style  of  oratory  today.  The 
deliberative  oration  owes  much  of  its  weight  to  the  calm,  ra- 
tional, impressive  manner  in  which  it  is  written.  But  what 
adds  most  weight  is  the  authority  of  the  speaker  who,  as  a 
member  of  parliament  and  often  as  premier,  exercises  the 
power  entrusted  to  him  by  the  people." 

Changes  in  This  Style. —  Under  what  circumstances  will 
this  style  of  oratory  change?  In  periods  of  great  national  ex- 
citement the  ordinary  calm  manner  yields  to  feeling  and  pas- 
sion. Then  the  parliamentary  speaker  makes  the  most  pow- 
erful appeal  to  the  emotions;  for  indignation  is  then  to  be 
kindled  or  allayed,  and  the  minds  of  the  audience  are  to  be 
moved  to  fear,  hatred,  pity,  benevolence.  During  these  peri- 
ods or  critical  emergencies  in  national  life,  the  very  finest  speci- 
mens of  oratory  have  been  produced  ;  for  example,  the  Athenian 
State  in  danger  from  Philip ;  the  Roman  State  in  danger  from 
Catiline;  the  American  Union  in  danger  from  secession. 

Periods  of  Excitement. —  It  is  noteworthy  that  in  ancient 
as  well  as  in  modern  times,  the  deliberative  style  has  changed 
whenever  parliament  undertakes  a  great  State  trial.  For  ex- 
ample, the  Trial  of  Warren  Hastings,  the  Impeachment  of 
President  Johnson,  or  whenever  parliament  attempts  some  rad- 


STYLE  IN  THE  ORATION  289 

ical  change  in  the  laws  of  the  realm.  For  example,  the  re- 
peal of  the  May  Laws  in  Germany,  the  Act  of  Union  between 
Ireland  and  England;  the  imposition  of  taxes  without  repre- 
sensation  in  the  American  colonies.  Because  of  such  abnormal 
conditions,  deliberative  oratory  undergoes  a  radical  change; 
but  calls  forth  as  a  consequence  the  best  speakers  both  in  an- 
cient and  in  modern  times  —  Demosthenes,  Cicero,  Burke, 
Webster,  Sheridan,  Gladstone,  Chatham.  -All  these  men  ap- 
peared during  periods  of  abnormal  national  excitement. 

Modern  Influences. —  In  modern  times  deliberative  oratory 
has  come  under  the  influence  of  two  distinct  forces  —  the  com- 
mercial spirit,  and  the  reduction  of  government  to  a  science. 
These  influences  have  taken  away  from  the  deliberative  ora- 
tion almost  all  traces  of  the  demonstrative  style.  "  A  remark- 
able change,"  says  Matthews,  "  has  come  over  the  House  of 
Commons  since  the  days  of  Edmund  Burke,  when  English  de- 
liberative oratory  was  enlivened  by  explosions  of  passion  which 
shook  the  House;  when  sallies  of  wit,  graceful  imagery  and 
classic  quotations  adorned  every  deliberative  effort.  Today 
the  deliberative  speaker  states  his  views  plainly,  tersely,  with 
little  preamble  and  less  embellishment ;  and  having  delivered 
himself  of  what  he  has  to  say,  he  concludes  as  abruptly  as  he 
began.  The  brilliant  speech  has  yielded  to  the  cold  business 
talk  based  upon  a  bundle  of  statistics.  Rhetoric  as  such,  and 
eloquence  as  such,  seem  to  be  no  longer  a  part  of  the  normal 
working  of  the  British  Parliament." 

Our  Parliamentary  Style.—  The  American  Parliament 
seems  to  be  following  the  British  example  and  employing  the 
deliberative  style  in  the  strictest  degree.  The  Congressional 
Record,  which  publishes  the  speeches  of  our  parliamentary 
speakers,  is  little  more  than  a  mass  of  facts,  analyzed  testimony, 
cold  reasoning,  barren  precedents  and  principles  —  the  skeleton 


20,0  THE  ORATION 

of  oratory  without  flesh  or  soul.  Hence,  the  unwarranted  in- 
ference that  the  days  of  oratory  are  rapidly  passing  away. 
The  deliberative  style  will  always  be  affected  by  racial  tem- 
perament; and,  in  the  parliaments  of  the  Latin  races,  we  may 
expect  it  to  give  considerable  scope  to  fancy,  imagination, 
feeling.  Yet,  among  all  races,  the  style  of  parliamentary  or- 
atory should  remain  substantially  as  Quintilian  defines  it  —  a 
style,  simple,  grave,  without  much  ornament  or  imagery  —  a 
style  in  which  reason  prevails  over  emotion.  A  deliberative 
assembly  will  always  be  engaged  upon  the  discussion  of  what  is 
honorable,  useful  or  necessary  to  the  State ;  and  this  three- fold 
subject-matter  demands  the  largest  exercise  of  reason  and  the 
smallest  amount  of  fancy  or  imagination. 

The  Judicial  Style. —  This  is  the  manner  of  writing  or 
presenting  arguments  in  a  Court  of  Justice.  It  deals  with  ev- 
idence, with  law,  with  a  judge  and  jury.  It  is  sometimes 
called  forensic  oratory ;  it  belongs  to  the  legal  profession,  just 
as  demonstrative  oratory  belongs  to  the  forum  and  pulpit,  and 
deliberative  oratory  to  parliament. 

The  Term. —  The  oration  addressed  to  a  judge,  gives  us 
the  term  judicial;  it  was  in  the  days  of  Aristotle  an  elaborate 
appeal  to  reason,  and  a  still  more  elaborate  appeal  to  the  pas- 
sions. Hence,  Aristotle  in  his  treatment  of  the  judicial  style 
states  the  various  ways  of  moving  the  judge,  arousing  his 
passions,  so  that  he  might  sometimes  decide  according  to  his 
feelings  and  not  according  to  the  law  and  evidence.  This 
method  was  universally  employed  by  the  pleaders  in  ancient 
Courts  of  Justice.  It  would  be  absurd  to  employ  such  a  style 
in  any  high  courts  of  justice  today.  For  example,  a  case 
could  never  be  won  in  the  supreme  courts  of  Great  Britain  or 
America  by  an  emotional  appeal.  There  is  not  the  slightest 
chance  for  such  success. 


STYLE  IN  THE  ORATION 

Trial  by  Jury.— Trial  by  jury  has  transferred  this  emo- 
tional appeal  from  the  judge  to  the  jurymen ;  and  precisely  with 
the  same  purpose  as  the  ancients  had  in  view.  The  history  of 
jurisprudence  shows  frequent  cases  wherein  a  criminal,  even  a 
murderer,  has  been  acquitted  because  of  the  emotional  appeal. 
Two  examples :  Senator  Voorhees  of  Indiana  has  secured  the 
acquittal  of  a  number  of  murderers  when  the  evidence  was  all 
against  them,  and  when  their  guilt  was  established  beyond  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt.  The  late  Colonel  Ingersoll  has  a  similar 
record  as  a  lawyer.  The  lawyer  of  modern  times  is  not  more 
successful  with  jurymen  than  the  lawyer  of  ancient  times 
with  judges  who  were  often  moved  to  grant  a  verdict  against 
the  evidence. 

Divisions. —  The  divisions  of  a  forensic  oration  are  five: 
the  exordium;  statement  of  facts;  the  proof  of  what  we  ad- 
vance; refutation  of  the  opposing  counsel;  and  the  perora- 
tion. 

Exordium. —  The  exordium  in  judicial  oratory  is  far  more 
explicit  and  formal  than  in  any  other  department  of  oratory. 
The  speaker  at  the  outset  states  in  clear,  unmistakable  terms 
to  judge  and  jury  what  he  is  going  to  prove  concerning  his 
client;  what  he  is  going  to  infer  from  a  statement  of  facts  in 
the  case.  This  explicitness  was  accompanied  in  ancient  times 
by  an  attempt  to  conciliate  the  judges.  Hence,  we  find  in  the 
classic  exordium  a  frequent  digression  in  praise  of  the  Judge 
—  his  honesty,  high-mindedness.  These  compliments  are  still 
paid  to  juries ;  and  they  form  a  part  of  the  exordium  in  modern 
forensic  oratory.  The  statement  of  facts  is  always  made  in  a 
peculiar  style.  Very  much  depends  upon  the  coloring  of  these 
statements.  The  best  legal  talent  is  often  employed  upon  the 
manipulation  of  facts,  so  as  to  blind  or  mislead  a  jury. 


20,2  THE  ORATION 

Some  Characteristics  of  the  Judicial  Style. —  The  style  of 
introduction  in  judicial  oratory  differs  from  that  of  the  usual 
exordium :  it  is  more  explicit  and  formal.  The  speaker  an- 
nounces the  points  which  will  be  the  divisions  of  his  oration ; 
his  style  at  the  outset  is  characterized  by  the  utmost  clearness 
and  brevity,  in  order  that  the  jury  may  see  the  exact  matter  at 
issue.  The  history  of  the  case  in  detail  follows  this  explicit 
and  formal  introduction.  And  the  judicial  style  is  somewhat 
peculiar  in  the  statement  of  details  or  the  facts  in  the  case. 
The  success  of  an  oration  in  a  Court  of  Justice  will  often  de- 
pend upon  the  manipulation  of  facts  so  as  to  give  them  an  in- 
nocent, or  guilty,  coloring.  As  a  lawyer  is  engaged  for  spe- 
cial pleading,  all  his  legal  talent  will  often  be  employed  to 
make  the  worse  appear  the  better  reason ;  and  he  will  manipu- 
late the  facts  in  the  interests  of  his  client  —  the  story  will  be 
colored  according  to  some  pre-arranged  plan.  This  manipula- 
tion of  facts  in  judicial  oratory  is  compared  with  the  arrange- 
ment of  objects  in  a  picture.  In  the  foreground  of  the  picture 
the  orator  places  all  those  facts  that  sustain  and  establish  his 
side  of  the  legal  controversy.  These  facts  are  brought  out  in 
the  clearest  light,  while  the  background  is  occupied  with  every 
detail  that  would  invite  an  adverse  decision.  PurceH's  Life  of 
Cardinal  Manning  is  an  example  in  point;  Purcell  placed  all 
the  little  defects  and  faults  in  the  foreground  of  the  picture, 
shrouding  in  the  background  all  the  grand  redeeming  traits  in 
the  character  of  the  English  Cardinal.  A  lawyer  may  destroy 
character  in  precisely  the  same  way. 

False  Inferences. —  The  style  of  the  judicial  oration  is  pe- 
culiar not  only  in  the  arrangement  of  facts,  but  in"  the  amount 
of  false  inferences  drawn  from  facts.  Hence,  this  kind  of 
oration  is  filled  with  sophistry.  False  reasoning  of  every  kind 
abounds.  In  attempting  to  prove  his  case,  a  lawyer  is  per- 
mitted to  deceive  the  minds  of  the  jury  as  well  as  to  mislead 


STYLE  IN  THE  ORATION  293 

their   sympathies.     He   is   permitted   to   do   what   would   be 
ethically  wrong  outside  a  court-room. 

The  Peroration.—  The  peroration  in  the  judicial  style  re- 
ceives special  attention.  It  is  carefully  written  and  memorized 
even  when  the  body  of  the  speech  is  extemporaneous  or  given 
from  notes.  The  final  impression  made  upon  the  jury  is  held 
to  be  of  such  importance  as  to  warrant  the  elaborate  perora- 
tions found  in  judicial  oratory.  The  judicial  oration  does  not 
offer  the  same  scope  that  other  kinds  of  oratory  furnish.  The 
speaker  addresses  only  a  small  body  of  men ;  in  the  delivery 
there  is  not  so  much  room  for  eloquence  as  before  a  parliament 
or  popular  assembly.  In  fact,  a  lawyer,  accustomed  for  years 
to  address  juries,  is  unfit  to  make  a  success  of  popular  or  de- 
monstrative oratory;  his  manner  is  that  of  the  plain,  quiet 
talker,  not  that  of  the  orator. 

Kinds  of  Pleading. —  An  interesting  study  in  the  judicial 
style  is  a  comparison  between  the  pleadings  of  the  lower  and 
higher  courts ;  the  former  is  a  style  akin  to  that  of  demonstra- 
tive oratory ;  the  latter  suggests  the  style  of  the  deliberative  as- 
sembly. In  England  eloquence  has  been  comparatively  rare 
in  the  court-room.  One  reason  is  the  technicality  which  per- 
vades every  branch  of  English  law.  Special  pleading  seems 
to  have  the  effect  of  cramping  and  confining  the  intellect. 
Owing  to  its  enormous  and  unwieldly  mass,  the  English  law 
is  unfavorable  to  the  cultivation  of  oratory.  The  establish- 
ment of  so  many  precedents,  the  growth  of  law  reports,  the 
statutes  of  parliament ;  the  gradual  extension  of  the  province 
so  as  to  cover  every  possible  case  —  all  combine  to  annihilate 
mere  oratory  as  such.  In  ancient  times,  in  the  flourishing 
periods  of  Greek  and  Roman  forensic  oratory,  the  laws  were 
few  in  number  and  very  simple,  and  the  judges  were  vested 
with  large  discretion ;  they  were  governed  to  a  large  extent  by 


294  THE  ORATION 

personal  wishes  and  feelings.     Hence,  the  frequent  attempts  to 
win  their  favor  and  to  play  upon  their  sympathies. 

As  years  go  on,  we  may  expect  the  science  of  law  to  become 
more  and  more  exact  and  comprehensive,  leaving  less  room  for 
the  exercise  of  discretionary  power  on  the  part  of  judges, 
and,  therefore,  less  room  for  aught  else  save  precedent,  fact, 
and  evidence. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

THE  ORATION  (CONTINUED) 

HISTORY    OF   THE   ORATION 

Antiquity. —  The  oration,  like  the  essay,  is  found  in  the 
oldest  literature.  It  is  as  old  as  human  society  itself,  because 
the  most  primitive  society  had  a  public  speaker  in  its  prophet 
or  chief  or  high-priest.  As  soon  as  leaders  of  men  appeared  i"n 
any  walk  of  life,  the  orator  also  appeared ;  for,  aside  from  its 
literary  value,  the  oration,  like  the  sceptre,  is  a  symbol  of  pow- 
er exerted  by  one  person  over  a  multitude.  The  best  proof  of 
the  antiquity  of  the  oration  is  its  presence  in  all  the  early  his- 
tories of  the  world.  The  earliest  historians  quote  the  speeches 
of  generals,  statesmen  and  religious  leaders.  Sometimes  these 
speeches  form  the  bulk  of  a  volume  of  ancient  history.  As 
example,  Caesar,  Livy,-  Thucydides,  and  the  historian  of  the 
Hebrews  may  be  quoted.  The  oration  occupies  a  prominent 
place  in  their  narrative. 

Among  the  Hebrews. —  In  Hebrew  literature  the  oration  is 
found,  but  rather  in  a  fragmentary  than  in  a  complete  form. 
Hebrew  writers  cared  little  for  art- form;  hence  their  oration 
is  as  crudely  finished  as  their  letter  or  their  essay.  The  ora- 
tion is  represented  partly  by  the  elaborate  speeches  in  the 
epic  of  Job.  There  are  also  numerous  speeches  scattered 
through  the  prophetical  writings  and  New  Testament;  these 
cannot  be  well  appreciated  from  a  literary  standpoint,  be- 
cause of  the  condensed  and  crude  form  in  which  they  are 

295 


THE  ORATION 

reported.  The  book  of  Deuteronomy  is  an  exception  to  the 
Biblical  rule  in  the  matter  of  speeches.  This  book  might  be 
called  the  "  Orations  and  Songs  of  Moses."  There  are  four 
orations  in  Deuteronomy;  they  were  delivered  by  Moses  to 
the  people  of  Israel,  and  they  are  reported  with  greater  com- 
pleteness than  any  other  orations  in  the  Bible.  They  resem- 
ble the  orations  found  in  the  history  of  Livy,  and  Thucydides. 
An  intense  interest  is  awakened  in  these  orations  from  the 
pathetic  situation  in  which  they  are  delivered :  the  leader  of 
the  Hebrews,  after  wandering  for  years  in  the  desert,  at  last 
draws  near  to  the  Promised  Land ;  and  yet  he  realizes  that  he 
can  never  enter  it.  For  passionate  appeal  these  orations  are 
unrivalled;  they  share  the  chief  glory  of  Hebrew  literature 
in  depth  of  feeling,  sublimity,  tenderness  and  an  exalted  style 
in  harmony  with  the  sentiments  expressed.  In  the  orations 
delivered  by  Moses,  the  subject-matter  itself  was  calculated  to 
stir  the  strongest  emotions  —  the  captivity  in  Egypt  where 
Israel  had  suffered  such  long  and  cruel  persecutions  —  the 
years  of  sorrow  in  the  wilderness  —  their  struggles  and  tribu- 
lations and  the  farewell  of  an  old  and  faithful  leader  who 
shared  all  their  sufferings,  but  was  not  permitted  to  share 
the  happiness  of  the  Promised  Land.  Nowhere  is  the  tragic 
note  stronger  in  the  mournful  story  of  this  exiled  nation.  The 
only  parallel  in  modern  history  is  the  Farewell  of  Napoleon  to 
the  Old  Guard  of  France. 

Form  of  Hebrew  Oratory. —  Hebrew  oratory  frequently 
takes  the  form  of  denunciation  and  complaint.  This  form  is 
conspicuous  in  the  prophetical  portion  of  Holy  Scripture. 
The  prophets  were,  for  the  most  part,  men  of  great  eloquence. 
The  invective  of  Demosthenes  or  Burke  is  often  equalled  by 
these  inspired  reformers  of  Israel. 

Among  the  Greeks. —  The  oration  holds  a  prominent  place 
in  Greek  literature,  because  it  played  a  prominent  part  in 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ORATION  297 

Greek  political  life.  The  Greeks  believed  that  eloquence  was 
of  celestial  origin;  they  ascribed  it  to  the  invention  of  a  god 
who,  on  account  of  this  art,  was  the  Messenger  and  Interpre- 
ter of  Olympus.  Oratory  flourished  in  Greece  because  for  a 
long  time  it  was  a  free  State ;  and,  in  the  history  of  the  world, 
free  States  alone  have  fostered  oratory.  One  of  the  first  acts 
of  a  tyrant,  or  of  a  despotic  government,  is  to  muzzle  speech, 
destroy  eloquence ;  it  is  their  only  safety.  A  despotic  govern- 
ment wishes  its  subjects  to  be  driven,  not  to  be  persuaded; 
hence  there  is  no  toleration  for  oratory. 

Under  Greek  Democracy. —  Oratory  was  a  power  in  the 
flourishing  periods  of  Greek  democracy;  it  was  the  key  to 
the  highest  dignities  —  the  passport  to  the  supreme  dominion 
of  the  State.  Hence,  the  eagerness  to  acquire  this  art;  elo- 
quence was  taught  as  the  occupation  of  a  life.  It  was  one 
of  the  chief  objects  of  education  in  Greek  schools.  Literature, 
science,  art,  were  to  be  mastered  on  the  theory  that  an  orator 
must  be  a  man  of  universal  knowledge.  Moral  duties  were 
taught  for  the  reason  that  none  but  a  good  man  could  be  an 
orator.  Learning,  wisdom,  even  virtue  itself,  were  valued 
only  as  they  ministered  to  the  purposes  of  eloquence.  As  a 
result  of  this  passionate  devotion  and  careful  study,  the  Greeks 
brought  this  art  to  the  highest  perfection.  The  oration  as 
a  work  of  art,  reached  the  term  of  its  evolution  in  Greece; 
the  orators  of  all  nations  since  then  have  been  mere  imita- 
tors of  Athenian  models ;  just  as  all  dramatic  writers  have  imi- 
tated Sophocles  or  ^schylus,  and  all  epic  writers,  Homer.  It 
is  the  glory  of  Grecian  literature  to  have  supplied  the  best 
models  in  every  department  of  verse  and  prose. 

The  Golden  Age. —  The  golden  age  of  Grecian  eloquence 
extended  from  the  time  of  Solon  600  B.  C.  to  that  of  Alex- 
ander, 336  B.  C.  Within  this  space  flourished  the  most  re- 


298  THE  ORATION 

nowned  orators  of  Greece;  it  was  the  brightest  period  in  their 
political  history.  Athens  alone  produced  the  great  orators. 
As  an  Ionian  city,  it  possessed  the  rich  intellectual  qualities 
of  that  brilliant  race.  The  free  form  of  government  adopted 
by  Athens  was  also  a  factor.  Cicero  who  studied  at  Athens, 
as  a  member  of  the  Greek  Academy,  writes :  "  The  art  of 
eloquence  is  not  the  common  property  of  all  Greece,  but  seems 
to  belong  to  Athens  alone.  For  I  never  heard  of  Argive, 
Corinthian  or  Theban  orators;  and  I  never  read  of  a  single 
orator  among  the  Lacedaemonians." 

The  Athenian  School. —  The  Athenians  themselves  were 
conscious  of  their  superiority  in. matters  of  eloquence.  Iso- 
crates,  one  of  their  brilliant  speakers,  wrote  in  his  famous 
panegyric,  380  B.  C.,  as  follows :  "  Athens  has  so  distanced 
the  world  in  power  of  thought  and  speech,  that  her  disciples 
have  become  the  teachers  of  all  other  men.  She  has  brought 
it  to  pass  that  the  name  of  Greece  should  be  thought  no  longer 
a  matter  of  race,  but  a  matter  of  intelligence ;  and  this  name 
should  henceforth  be  given  to  the  participators  in  our  culture 
rather  than  to  the  sharers  in  our  racial  origin."  The  school 
of  Athenian  oratory  claims  seven  distinguished  names.  The 
first  of  these  is  Pericles.  It  is  claimed  for  Pericles  that  he 
was  the  first  Athenian  who  composed  and  put  into  writing  an 
oration  designed  for  the  public.  This  speech,  as  reported  to 
us  by  Thucydides,  is  one  of  the  noblest  monuments  of  antiqui- 
ty. It  was  delivered  in  the  Westminster  of  Athens,  Cerami- 
cus,  over  the  graves  of  those  who  fell  in  the  Peloponnesian 
war.  Pericles  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  an- 
tiquity ;  he  was  the  champion  of  Greek  democracy,  the  ruler  of 
Athens  for  nearly  forty  years.  He  gained  his  marvelous  in- 
fluence over  the  Athenians  by  his  moral  character  and  his 
eloquence.  He  spent  vast  sums  in  beautifying  Athens  and 
making  it  an  art-center.  The  names  of  the  artists  employed 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ORATION 

by  him  would  fill  a  small  volume.  He  built  the  Parthenon 
and  the  Temple  of  Athens.  In  his  long  lifetime  there 
flourished  at  Athens  the  poets,  ^schylus,  Sophocles  and 
Euripides ;  the  philosophers,  Anaxagoras,  Zeno,  Socrates ;  the 
painter,  Polygnotus;  the  sculptors,  Myron  and  Phidias.  The 
age  of  Pericles  is  compared,  so  far  as  literature  and  eloquence 
are  concerned,  with  the  age  of  Augustus  in  Rome;  Louis 
XIV  in  France;  Elizabeth  in  England. 

Successors  of  Pericles. —  Pericles  was  succeeded  by  six  dis- 
tinguished orators :  Lysias,  a  lawyer  by  profession ;  Isocrates. 
a  teacher  of  rhetoric,  and  known  among  the  Greeks  as  the 
"  Old  Man  Eloquent ;  "  Isacus,  the  instructor  of  Demosthenes 
and  the  author  of  a  treatise  on  Oratory;  ^Eschines,  a  lawyer 
and  rival  of  Demosthenes;  finally,  Demosthenes  himself. 
These  men  are  the  best  representatives  of  Greek  eloquence; 
they  compare  favorably  with  Webster,  Burke,  Chatham  and 
Sheridan  in  English ;  their  work  is,  for  the  most  part,  pre- 
served ;  they  are  known  in  Greek  literature  as  the  flower  of  the 
Athenian  school. 

Demosthenes. —  Of  these  speakers,  Demosthenes  enjoys  the 
widest  reputation;  he  is  more  fortunate  than  the  others  in 
having  a  larger  number  of  his  speeches  preserved,  and  thereby 
giving  posterity  a  better  chance  to  estimate  his  merits. 
Twenty-seven  speeches  known  to  be  genuine  are  handed 
down ;  thirty-four  of  doubtful  origin  are  ascribed  to  him,  or 
sixty-one  in  all.  He  is  also  more  fortunate  in  having  ap- 
peared during  a  great  national  struggle  when  the  occasion 
makes  the  orator.  He  enjoyed  an  advantage  over  all  orators 
of  other  nations  in  having  a  more  perfect  medium  for  his  art; 
inasmuch  as  the  Greek  language  is  admittedly  a  finer  medium 
for  expression  than  any  other  language  either  ancient  or 
modern.  In  addition  to  this,  Demosthenes  owes  the  plan  of 


300  THE  ORATION 

his  orations  to  Pericles,  who  left  him  perfect  models  of  what 
the  oration  ought  to  be.  With  all  these  advantages,  he  is 
given  first  place;  only  three  others,  Cicero,  Bossuet  and  Ed- 
mund Burke,  approach  him  in  excellence,  although  twenty- 
four  centuries  have  passed  since  his  birth,  and  a  dozen  nations 
flourishing  in  that  time,  have  added  hundreds  of  names  to 
the  list  of  orators. 

The  Oration  Among  the  Romans. —  The  Romans  derived 
their  knowledge  of  the  arts  from  the  Greeks,  including  every 
department  of  literature.  For  several  hundred  years  they 
were  rude,  illiterate,  unskilled  in  anything  except  the  art  of 
war.  After  the  conquest  of  Greece,  they  began  to  study  the 
arts,  and  leading  Roman  scholars  cither  studied  at  Athens, 
like  Cicero,  or  had  Greek  teachers  brought  to  Rome.  The 
Greek  masterpieces  circulated  widely  in  Italy.  As  a  free 
state,  Rome  encouraged  public  speaking;  and  it  was  the 
opinion  of  Cicero  that  the  art  of  eloquence,  after  that  of  arms, 
became  the  pride  of  the  Roman  commonwealth.  The  Romans 
had  certain  racial  characteristics  favorable  to  oratory.  They 
were  a  grave  people,  serious  almost  to  a  fault.  They  were 
passionately  devoted  to  their  country ;  and  patriotism  is  always 
an  inspiration  to  eloquence.  An  additional  inspiration  came 
from  their  territorial  expansion ;  they  outgrew  the  narrowness 
and  provincialism  of  Italy;  a  certain  magnificence  of  thought 
and  language  followed  their  magnificent  conquests;  so  that 
Newman  could  justly  say  of  Cicero :  "  He  spoke  Roman,  not 
Latin;  and  he  was  inspired,  not  by  a  petty  State,  but  by  the 
orbis  terrarum,  and  the  world-wide  glance  of  the  Roman 
eagle."  Only  one  nation  in  modern  history  gives  equal  inspira- 
tion to  the  orator  —  the  mistress  of  the  seas,  whose  drum- 
beat is  heard  round  the  world. 

Oratory  and  the  Republic.— The  Romans  in  the  days  of 
the  Republic,  added  more  names  than  the  Greeks  to  the  list 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ORATION  301 

of  orators.  In  his  dialogues  on  oratory,  Cicero  mentions 
fully  one  hundred  names,  including  the  famous  generals,  sena- 
tors and  statesmen  of  the  Republic ;  such  names  as  Brutus, 
Cato,  Scipio,  Antony,  Caesar,  appearing  among  them.  But  if 
we  make  an  exception  of  Cicero,  the  work  of  the  others  was 
much  inferior  to  that  of  the  Greeks.  Oratory  passed  away 
with  the  Republic.  A  century  after  the  death  of  Cicero, 
Tacitus  bewails  the  decay  of  eloquence,  in  the  following 
words :  "  Why  is  it  that  former  ages  were  so  distinguished 
for  the  genius  and  renown  of  orators  and  our  own  age  so 
bereft  of  this  glory  as  to  scarcely  retain  the  very  name;  for 
we  style  none  such  now  except  the  ancients;  the  speakers  of 
the  present  day  are  called  pleaders,  barristers,  anything,  in 
fact,  rather  than  orators." 

Studies  of  Quintilian. —  Quintilian  was  the  last  Roman  who 
distinguished  himself  by  the  study  of  oratory;  but  he  sought 
fame  as  a  teacher  and  critic,  not  as  a  public  speaker.  For 
twenty  years  he  presided  over  the  Roman  School  of  Oratory. 
He  resembles  Aristotle  in  coming  after  the  great  orations  of 
his  country  had  been  written,  and  in  passing  judgment  upon 
them  in  a  volume  of  criticism.  Quintilian  attempted  a  revival 
of  the  art,  but  a  despot  ruled  in  Rome,  and  the  revival  meant 
little  more  than  the  publication  of  some  worthless  panegyrics 
on  a  Roman  tyrant.  The  world  acknowledges  a  large  debt  to 
Quintilian ;  his  work  in  criticism  has  been  a  text-book  in  the 
hands  of  students  since  his  time. 

Modern  Oratory. —  France  and  England  are  leading  nations 
in  modern  eloquence;  and  they  bear  considerable  resemblance 
to  Greece  and  Rome.  In  relation  to  the  arts,  France  seems 
to  have  inherited  the  genius  of  Greece,  so  that  her  capital  city 
is  justly  styled  the  modern  Athens;  while  London  is  the 
modern  center  of  the  orbis  terrarum;  and  the  imperial  Eng- 


302  THE  ORATION 

lishman  bears  a  striking*  resemblance  to  the  imperial  Roman. 
France  has  produced  two  orators  who  are  often  compared 
with  Demosthenes :  Mirabeau  in  the  forum,  and  Bossuet  in  the 
pulpit.  The  speeches  of  both  contain  those  elements  of  pas- 
sion and  power  which  characterize  the  orations  of  the  Athen- 
ian orator.  Intense  religious  and  political  excitement  gave 
both  the  necessary  opportunity.  When  Mirabeau  appeared 
in  the  French  Assembly,  he  hurled  defiance  and  scorn  on  the 
nobility  and  King,  as  Demosthenes  had  done  against  Philip; 
and  he  roused  the  people  to  the  same  passionate  fury ;  he  ac- 
tually goaded  them  to  madness  by  his  eloquent  recital  of  their 
wrongs  and  his  vehement  denunciation  of  their  rulers.  It  is 
noteworthy  that  Mirabeau  appeared  with  the  Revolution  and 
the  Republic;  he  would  have  been  an  impossibility  under  the 
Monarchy. 

Bossuet. —  Besides  Mirabeau,  France  produced  another  ora- 
tor -who  compares  favorably  with  Demosthenes.  The  orations 
of  Bossuet  are  often  quoted  as  the  highest  standard  of  modern 
pulpit  eloquence.  In  comparison  with  the  Greek  master- 
pieces, these  pulpit  orations  possess  the  same  vehemence  and 
passion,  the  same  power  to  influence  the  mind  and  captivate 
the  imagination.  Bossuet  had  the  advantage  of  a  more  sub- 
lime and  inspiring  theme,  but  the  medium  of  his  art  was 
less  perfect.  Many  of  the  sermons  of  Bossuet  exist  only  in 
notes  or  rough  sketches.  His  funeral  orations  are  handed 
down  in  complete  form ;  as  a  funeral  orator  Bossuet  is  without 
an  equal.  As  a  rule,  Bossuet  spoke  from  notes  or  outlines; 
he  did  not  memorize  or  write  out  a  sermon  except  for  some 
great  state  occasion;  he  trusted  to  the  inspiration  of  the  mo- 
ment; hence  some  of  his  best  efforts,  like  those  of  Chatham, 
are  lost.  Besides  the  classics,  Bossuet  relied  upon  three 
sources  of  sacred  eloquence :  the  homilies  of  St.  Chrysostom 
and  St.  Augustine  and  the  Prophets  of  the  Old  Testament. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  ORATION  303 

Fenelon  writes  that  in  Bossuet  the  Old  Testament  was  trans- 
figured into  a  man;  next  to  these  studies,  his  favorite  author 
was  Homer.  A  copy  of  Homer  was  his  constant  companion. 
In  this  particular,  Bossuet  resembles  all  the  illustrious  orators 
who  made  a  life-long  study  of  some  epic  —  either  Homer  or 
Virgil  or  Milton.  Bossuet  flourished  under  a  monarchy,  but 
he  enjoyed  the  immunity  of  the  pulpit.  Within  the  sanctuary 
he  could  thunder  against  regal  vices  and  be  amply  protected 
by  his  sacred  office.  Paganism  offered  no  such  scope  or  safe- 
guard to  the  eloquence  of  antiquity. 

The  Oration  in  England. —  The  characteristic  difference 
between  French  and  English  eloquence  is  that  which  existed 
of  old  between  Greece  and  Rome.  The  French,  as  greater 
artists,  adopted  higher  ideals  both  of  pleasing  and  persuading. 
The  English  took  up  eloquence  on  a  lower  key,  adopting  the 
utilitarian  standard,  caring  little  for  polish  or  symmetry.  The 
temperament  of  the  people,  their  natural  coldness,  chilled. the 
glow  of  emotion  and  destroyed  that  passionate  fire  which  is 
the  soul  of  eloquence;  they  demanded  greater  soberness  than 
the  French,  and  fewer  flowers  of  the  imagination.  Hence, 
the  custom,  centuries  old,  in  the  English  courts  and  parliament 
to  argue  from  strict  law,  statute  or  precedent,  which  involves 
knowledge  rather  than  oratory,  reason  rather  than  emotion. 
Hence,  too,  their  ancient  custom  of  reading  sermons  in  the 
pulpit,  as  if  oratory  were  a  useless  luxury.  A  strange  nation- 
al pride  has  materially  assisted  their  phlegmatic  temperament 
and  compelled  their  statesmen,  lawyers  and  clergymen  to  adopt 
the  extreme  of  studied  coolness  and  composure.  Yet  in  spite 
of  these  drawbacks  England  has  produced  some  of  the  finest 
orators  known  to  history. 

Reasons  for  Oratorical  Growth. —  Three  reasons  are  as- 
signed for  the  prominence  of  the  oration  in  the  literature  of 


304  THE  ORATION 

the  English.  The  first  is  their  freedom,  and  love  of  discussion ; 
they  have  always  enjoyed  representative  government,  and  the 
utmost  freedom  in  debate  is  a  marked  characteristic  of  the 
British  parliament  which  gives  the  same  scope  to  oratory  that  it 
had  in  the  republics  of  antiquity.  A  second  reason  is  the 
vicissitudes,  religious  and  political,  through  which  England 
has  passed  from  a  small  island  kingdom  to  a  world-wide 
empire.  The  revolutions  that  accompanied  so  many  colonial 
settlements  frequently  roused  the  nation  to  intense  passion 
and  produced  orators  like  Chatham  and  Sheridan  and  Burke. 
The  religious  revolutions  were  equally  successful  in  making 
orators  and  in  furnishing  an  opportunity  for  eloquence.  Dis- 
senters, Puritans,  Calvinists;  the  long  struggle  for  supremacy 
between  Protestant  and  Catholic,  were  in  turn  an  inspiration 
to  the  pulpit.  "  The  clash  of  creeds,"  said  Disraeli,  "  has 
kept  the  English  pulpit  at  furnace  heat  from  the  days  of  Mil- 
ton down  to  our  own."  The  religious  revolutions  are  repre- 
sented by  such  orators  as  Latimer,  Wiseman,  Channing, 
Wesley.  A  final  reason  for  the  prominence  of  oratory  in 
English  literature  is  the  clash  of  races,  especially  the  struggle 
for  independence  as  in  the  case  of  the  American  colonies  and 
Ireland.  These  struggles  are  represented  by  Grattan,  Curran, 
O'Connell,  Patrick  Henry,  Gladstone,  Disraeli.  So  long  as 
there  exists  a  clash  of  creeds  and  races  in  England,  so  long 
must  oratory  continue  to  flourish  in  spite  of  the  temperament 
of  the  people. 

The  Future  of  Oratory. —  The  oration  will  remain  an  im- 
portant factor  in  literature  and  in  life,  because  the  conditions 
which  produced  it  in  the  past,  will  continue  to  exist.  The 
growth  of  representative  governments  and  the  prevalence  of 
Christianity  over  the  world  are  conditions  in  its  favor.  Chris- 
tianity opened  a  new  avenue  to  the  career  of  eloquence,  and 
this  more  than  compensates  for  any  losses  sustained  in  parlia- 


HISTORY  OP  THE  ORATION  305 

ments  or  in  courts  of  justice.  The  modern  scientific  spirit  has 
modified  the  appeal  to  the  emotions  and  introduced  more  cor- 
rectness in  the  development  of  thought.  But  the  oration  will 
remain  substantially  what  it  was  —  a  composition  appealing 
to  reason,  sentiment,  passion,  imagination.  The  masses  will 
always  demand  it;  and  the  leaders  of  men  will  always  em- 
ploy it. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

THE  ORATION   (CONTINUED) 

REPRESENTATIVE    ORATORS 

Demosthenes. —  He  was  born  at  Paeania,  Attica,  in  384 
B.  C.,  and  died  322  B.  C.  He  entered  public  life  as  a  speaker 
in  the  Popular  Assembly,  in  355.  His  chief  orations  are  the 
Philippics,  the  Olynthiacs,  On  the  Peace,  On  the  Embassy, 
and  On  the  Crown.  The  best  modern  editions  are  those  of 
Bekker  (1823)  ;  Sauppe  and  Baiter  (1850)  ;  Dindorf  (1867)  ; 
Whiston  (1859).  The  orations  of  Demosthenes  derived  their 
inspiration  from  the  struggle  against  the  encroachments  of 
Philip  of  Macedon. 

Criticism  by  Blair. — "  Despising  the  affected  and  florid  man- 
ner which  the  rhetoricians  of  that  age  followed,  Demosthenes 
returned  to  the  forcible  and  manly  eloquence  of  Pericles ;  and 
strength  and  vehemence  form  the  principal  characteristics  of  his 
style.  Never  had  orator  a  finer  field  than  Demosthenes  in  his 
Olynthiacs  and  Philippics,  which  are  his  capital  orations,  and, 
no  doubt,  to  the  nobleness  of  the  subject,  and  to  that  integrity 
and  public  spirit  which  eminently  breathe  in  them,  they  are  in- 
debted for  much  of  their  merit.  The  subject  is  to  rouse  the 
indignation  of  his  countrymen  against  Philip  of  Macedon,  the 
public  enemy  of  the  liberties  of  Greece ;  and  to  guard  them  against 
the  insidious  measures,  by  which  that  crafty  prince  endeavored  to 
lay  them  asleep  to  danger.  In  the  prosecution  of  this  end,  we 
see  him  taking  every  proper  method  to  animate  a  people,  re- 
nowned for  justice,  humanity,  and  valour,  but  in  many  instances 
become  corrupt  and  degenerate.  He  boldly  taxes  them  with 
their  venality,  their  indolence,  and  indifference  to  the  public  cause ; 

306 


DEMOSTHENES  307 

while,  at  the  same  time,  with  all  the  art  of  an  orator,  he  recalls 
the  glory  of  their  ancestors  to  their  thoughts,  shows  them  that 
they  are  still  a  flourishing  and  a  powerful  people,  the  natural 
protectors  of  the  liberty  of  Greece,  and  who  wanted  only  the 
inclination  to  exert  themselves,  in  order  to  make  Philip  tremble. 
With  his  contemporary  orators  who  were  in  Philip's  interest, 
and  who  persuaded  the  people  to  peace,  he  keeps  no  measures,  but 
plainly  reproaches  them  as  the  betrayers  of  their  country.  He 
not  only  prompts  to  vigorous  conduct,  but  he  lays  down  the 
plan  of  that  conduct ;  he  enters  into  particulars ;  and  points  out, 
with  great  exactness,  the  measures  of  execution.  This  is  the 
strain  of  these  orations.  They  are  strongly  animated,  and  full 
of  the  impetuosity  and  fire  of  public  spirit.  They  proceed  in  a 
continued  train  of  inductions,  consequences,  and  demonstrations, 
founded  on  sound  reason.  The  figures  which  he  uses  are  never 
sought  after;  but  always  rise  from  the  subject.  He  employs 
them  sparingly,  indeed;  for  splendor  and  ornament  are  not  the 
distinctions  of  this  orator's  composition.  It  is  an  energy  of 
thought  peculiar  to  himself,  which  forms  his  character,  and  sets 
him  above  all  others.  He  appears  to  attend  much  more  to 
things  than  to  words.  We  forget  the  orator,  and  think  of  the 
business.  He  warms  the  mind,  and  impels  to  action.  He  has 
no  parade  and  ostentation ;  no  method  of  insinuation ;  no  labored 
introductions;  but  is  like  a  man  full  of  his  subject,  who,  after 
preparing  his  audience  by  a  sentence  or  two  for  hearing  plain 
truths,  enters  directly  on  business.  Demosthenes  appears  to 
great  advantage,  when  contrasted  with  ^Eschines  in  the  celebrated 
oration  f  Pro  Corona/  ^schines  was  his  rival  in  business,  and 
personal  enemy ;  and  one  of  the  most  distinguished  orators  of 
that  age.  But  when  we  read  the  two  orations,  Aeschines  is 
feeble  in  comparison  with  Demosthenes,  and  makes  much  less 
impression  on  the  mind.  His  reasonings  concerning  the  law 
that  was  in  question,  are  indeed  very  subtle;  but  his  invective 
against  Demosthenes  is  general  and  ill-supported.  Whereas, 
Demosthenes  is  a  torrent  that  nothing  can  resist.  He  bears  down 
his  antagonist  with  violence;  he  draws  his  character  in  the 
strongest  colors ;  and  the  particular  merit  of  that  oration  is,  that 
all  the  descriptions  in  it  are  highly  picturesque.  There  runs 
through  it  a  strain  of  magnanimity  and  high  honor:  the  orator 
speaks  with  that  strength  and  conscious  dignity  which  great 


308  THE  ORATION 

actions  and  public  spirit  alone  inspire.  Both  orators  use  great 
liberties  with  each  other;  and,  in  general,  that  unrestrained  li- 
cense which  ancient  manners  permitted,  even  to  the  length  of 
abusive  names  and  downright  scurrility,  as  appears  both  here 
and  in  Cicero's  Philippics,  hurts  and  offends  a  modern  ear. 
What  those  ancient  orators  gained  by  such  a  manner  in  point 
of  freedom  and  boldness,  is  more  than  compensated  by  want  of 
dignity ;  which  seems  to  give  an  advantage,  in  this  respect,  to 
the  greater  decency  of  modern  speaking.  The  style  of  Demos- 
thenes is  strong  and  concise,  though  sometimes  it  must  not  be 
dissembled,  harsh  and  abrupt.  His  words  are  very  expressive; 
his  arrangement  is  firm  and  manly,  and  though  far  from  being 
unmusical,  yet  it  seems  difficult  to  find  in  him  that  studied,  but 
concealed  number,  and  rhythmus,  which  some  of  the  ancient  crit- 
ics are  fond  of  attributing  to  him.  Negligent  of  these  lesser 
graces,  one  would  rather  conceive  him  to  have  aimed  at  the 
sublime  which  lies  in  sentiment.  His  action  and  pronunciation 
are  recorded  to  have  been  uncommonly  vehement  and  ardent ; 
which,  from  the  manner  of  his  composition,  we  are  naturally  led 
to  believe.  The  character  which  one  forms  of  him,  from  reading 
his  works,  is  of  the  austere,  rather  than  the  gentle  kind.  He 
is  on  every  occasion  grave,  serious,  passionate;  takes  everything 
on  a  high  tone;  never  lets  himself  down,  nor  attempts  anything 
like  pleasantry.  If  any  fault  can  be  found  with  his  admirable 
eloquence,  it  is,  that  he  sometimes  borders  on  the  hard  and  dry. 
He  may  be  thought  to  want  smoothness  and  grace ;  which  Diony- 
sius  of  Halicarnassus  attributes  to  his  imitating  too  closely  the 
manner  of  Thucydides,  who  was  his  great  model  for  style,  and 
whose  history  he  is  said  to  have  written  eight  times  over  with 
his  own  hand.  But  these  defects  are  far  more  than  compensated 
by  that  admirable  and  masterly  force  of  masculine  eloquence, 
which,  as  it  overpowered  all  who  heard  it,  cannot,  at  this  day,  be 
read  without  emotion." 

Criticism  by  Henry  Hardwicke. — "  To  his  admirable  delivery, 
Demosthenes,  in  his  orations,  joined  the  equal  force  of  great  and 
noble  expressions,  of  lively  descriptions,  of  pathetic  passages,  and 
of  rhetorical  images  proper  to  affect  and  make  strong  impressions 
upon  the  mind.  In  short,  nearly  all  of  his  orations  are  full  of 
expressive  figures,  of  frequent  apostrophes,  and  reiterated  inter- 


DEMOSTHENES  300 

rogations,  which  gave  life  and  vigor  to,  and  animated  all  he 
said.  Longinus,  in  his  comparison  between  Demosthenes  and 
Cicero,  compares  the  eloquence  of  the  former  to  lightning,  and 
of  the  latter  to  a  great  fire.  He  says  the  eloquence  of  Demos- 
thenes is  a  whirlwind  and  a  clap  of  thunder  that  overturns  all 
things,  and  that  of  Cicero  like  a  great  fire  which  devours  all 
things.  So  that  violence  and  impetuousness  make  up  the  char- 
acter of  Demosthenes'  eloquence,  and  the  progress  of  a  great 
fire,  which  advances  by  degrees,  together  with  the  heat  and  in- 
sinuating virtue  of  fire,  are  the  qualities  of  that  of  Cicero.  The 
Grecian  breaks  out  like  thunder.  The  Roman  warms  and  in- 
flames like  a  great  fire.  Longinus  therefore  adds  that  Demos- 
thenes never  failed  of  success,  when  he  was  to  strike  terror  into 
the  minds  of  his  audience,  and  to  work  upon  them  by  strong 
representations  and  violent  motions.  But  when  it  was  necessary 
to  go  to  the  very  heart,  and  to  insinuate  ones'  self  into  the  mind, 
by  all  those  graces  and  pleasing  charms  which  eloquence  is 
mistress  of;  then  it  was  that  Cicero's  art  was  triumphant,  and 
that  his  diffused,  enlarged  discourse  succeeded  far  better  than 
the  more  close  and  concise  style  of  Demosthenes ;  and  the  one 
has  no  more  eclat,  in  the  surprising  strength  of  his  reasons,  than 
the  other  by  the^warming  and  affecting  emotions  he  raises.  It  is 
said  that  before  the  time  of  Demosthenes,  there  existed  three  dis- 
tinct styles  of  eloquence:  that  of  Lysias,  mild  and  persuasive, 
quietly  engaged  the  attention,  and  won  the  assent  of  an  audience ; 
that  of  Thucydides,  bold  and  animated,  awakened  the  feelings 
and  powerfully  forced  conviction  on  the  mind ;  while  that  of 
Isocrates  was,  as  it  were,  a  combination  of  the  former  two.  De- 
mosthenes can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  proposed  any  individual 
as  a  model,  although  he  bestowed  so  much  untiring  labor  on 
the  historian  of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  He  rather  culled  all  that 
was  valuable  from  the  various  styles  of  his  great  predecessors, 
working  them  up,  and  blending  them  into  one  harmonious  whole : 
not,  however,  that  there  is  such  a  uniformity  or  mannerism  in 
his  works  as  prevents  him  from  applying  himself  with  versatility 
to  a  variety  of  subjects;  on  the  contrary,  he  seems  to  have  had 
the  power  of  carrying  each  individual  style  to  perfection,  and 
of  adapting  himself  with  equal  excellence  to  each  successive 
topic.  In  the  general  structure  of  many  of  his  sentences,  he 
resembles  Thucydides;  but  he  is  more  simple  and  perspicuous, 


310  'THE  ORATION 

and  better  calculated  to  be  quickly  comprehended  by  an  audi- 
ence. On  the  other  hand,  his  clearness  In  narration,  his  elegance 
and  purity  of  diction,  and  (to  borrow  a  metaphor  from  a  sister 
art)  his  correct  keeping,  remind  the  reader  of  Lysias.  But  the 
argumentative  part  of  the  speeches  of  Lysias  are  often  deficient 
in  vigor;  whereas  earnestness,  power,  zeal,  rapidity,  and  passion, 
seated  in  his  heart,  and  emanated  from  its  profoundest  depths, 
The  mystery  of  his  wonderful  influence,  then,  lay  in  his  honesty. 
It  is  this,  joined  to  his  action,  that  gave  warmth  and  tone  to  his 
feelings,  an  energy  to  his  language,  and  an  impression  to  his 
manner,  before  which  every  imputation  of  insincerity  must  have 
vanished.  The  chief  characteristics  of  Demosthenes'  oratory 
were  strength,  energy,  and  sublimity,  aided  by  an  emphatic  and 
vehement  elocution.  Liberty  and  eloquence,  which  are  twin  born, 
and  which  die  together,  expired  in  Greece,  with  their  noble  de- 
fender, Demosthenes,  and  eloquence  relapsed  again  into  the 
feeble  manner  introduced  by  the  sophists." 

Cicero. —  A  sketch  of  the  life  of  Cicero  has  been  given  in 
this  volume  (see  the  Letter).  It  was  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
nine  that  he  began  to  distinguish  himself  as  a  deliberative 
orator.  When  he  attained  to  the  consulship  he  was  forty- 
three.  It  was  then  that  the  moral  qualities  of  his  character 
were  the  highest,  and  his  genius  shone  forth  with  the  greatest 
splendor;  for  then  he  delivered  his  famous  orations  against 
Catiline. 

Criticism  by  Rev.  J.  O'Conor. — "  Cicero  was  always  careful 
to  lay  out  his  oration,  in  accordance  with  the  plan  which  he  pro- 
posed in  his  rhetorical  works.  He  pays  greatest  attention  to 
the  introductions  containing  the  ethical  proof;  the  body  of  the 
speech  relating  the  facts  and  the  arguments  deducted  from  those 
facts ;  lastly  the  peroration,  addressing  itself  to  the  moral  sense  of 
the  judges.  These  were  the  parts  to  which  he  paid  most  atten- 
tion. His  skill  as  an  orator  is  best  shown  in  "  the  proof."  He 
accounts  for  everything  naturally,  and  converts  objections  into  a 
confirmation  of  his  own  argument.  Then  he  emphasizes  all  this 
by  amplification  and  exaggeration.  He  has  not  the  force  of 
Demosthenes,  but  has  what  an  ancient  critic  ascribes  to  him,  '  the 


CICERO  3,r 

copiousness  of  Plato,  and  the  sweetness  of  Isocrates.'  Strength 
and  simplicity  cannot  be  claimed  for  him,  but  no  one  will  deny 
that  he  has  copiousness  and  soundness  of  treatment;  we  may 
add,  wealth  and  harmony  of  diction,  solid  and  sententious  argu- 
ment, a  brilliant  and  poetic  imagination.  He  carried  his  audience 
more  by  persuasion  than  by  conviction.  He  captivates  his  hearers, 
flatters  their  vanity,  rouses  their  selfishness,  and  stirs  up  their 
hopes  and  fears.  Cicero  had  also  a  great  fund  of  wit,  in 
which  respect  he  differed  from  Demosthenes,  who,  when  he  at- 
tempted to  be  facetious,  made  .  himself  ridiculous.  Cicero  had 
also  at  his  command,  intense  irony  and  sarcasm  that  never  failed 
to  be  effective.  Many  faults  have  been  attributed  to  the  Roman 
orator ;  his  copiousness  sometimes  runs  to  wordiness ;  the  sound 
sometimes  exceeds  the  sense ;  the  style  is  too  artificial ;  the 
speaker  sometimes  merely  tries  to  display  his  verbal  power,  sac- 
rificing everything  to  his  vanity.  However,  his  faults  are  more 
than  outweighed  by  his  excellences.  Cicero  said,  *  the  perfect 
orator  is  the  perfect  man ; '  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  tried 
to  be  a  perfect  man  according  to  his  own  ideas.  But  his  nature 
was  decidedly  weak.  His  constant  aim  was  to  do  right,  and  his 
mistakes  were  those  of  the  judgment  rather  than  of  the  heart. 
His  vanity  and  his  desire  to  be  popular  with  all  men  was  his  one 
great  misfortune.  But  we  can  pardon  many  other  faults  in  view 
of  the  eminence  he  attained  in  his  art.  Two  magnificently 
planned  orations  are  the  one  in  '  Defence  of  Milo/  and  the 
'  Manilian  Law/  The  '  Pro  Archias '  is  replete  with  the  spirit 
of  poetry,  and  the  speeches  against  Catiline  are  models  of  in- 
vective." 

Criticism  by  Blair. — "  The  object  in  this  period  most  worthy 
to  draw  our  attention,  is  Cicero  himself ;  whose  name  alone  sug- 
gests everything  that  is  splendid  in  oratory.  With  the  history 
of  his  life  and  with  his  character,  as  a  man  and  a  politician,  we 
have  not  at  present  any  direct  concern.  We  consider  him  only  as 
an  eloquent  speaker,  and  in  this  view,  it  is  our  business  to  remark 
both  his  virtues,  and  his  defects,  if  he  has  any.  His  virtues  are, 
beyond  controversy,  eminently  great.  In  all  his  orations  there 
is  high  art.  He  begins,  generally,  with  a  regular  exordium ;  and 
with  much  preparation  and  insinuation  prepossesses  the  hearers 
and  studies  to  gain  their  affections.  His  method  is  clear,  and  his 


312  THE  ORATION 

arguments  are  arranged  with  great  propriety.  His  method  is 
indeed  more  clear  than  that  of  Demosthenes;  and  this  is  one 
advantage  which  he  has  over  him.  We  find  everything  in  its 
proper  place ;  he  never  attempts  to  move  till  he  has  endeavored 
to  convince :  and  in  moving,  especially  the  softer  passions,  he  is 
very  successful.  No  man  that  ever  wrote,  knew  the  power  and 
force  of  words  better  than  Cicero.  He  rolls  them  along  with  the 
greatest  beauty  and  pomp;  and  in  the  structure  of  his  sentences 
is  curious  and  exact  to  the  highest  degree.  He  is  always  full 
and  flowing,  never  abrupt.  He  is  a  great  amplifier  of  every 
subject;  magnificent,  and  in  his  sentiments  highly  moral.  His 
manner  is  on  the  whole  diffuse,  yet  it  is  often  happily  varied,  and 
suited  to  the  subject.  In  his  four  orations,  for  instance,  against 
Catiline,  the  tone  and  style  of  each  of  them,  particularly  the  first 
and  last,  is  very  different,  and  accommodated  with  a  great  deal 
of  judgment  to  the  occasion  and  the  situation  in  which  they  were 
spoken.  When  a  great  public  object  rouses  his  mind,  and  de- 
mands indignation  and  force,  he  departs  considerably  from  that 
loose  and  declamatory  manner  to  which  he  inclines  at  other 
times,  and  becomes  exceedingly  cogent  and  vehement.  This  is 
the  case  in  his  orations  against  Antony,  and  in  those  too  against 
Verres  and  Catiline.  Together  with  those  high  qualities  which 
Cicero  possessed,  he  is  not  exempt  from  certain  defects,  of  which 
it  is  necessary  to  take  notice.  For  the  Ciceronian  eloquence  is 
a  pattern  so  dazzling  by  its  beauties,  that,  if  not  examined  with 
accuracy  and  judgment,  it  is  apt  to  betray  the  unwary  into  a 
faulty  imitation;  and  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  it  has  sometimes 
produced  this  effect.  In  most  of  his  orations,  especially  those 
composed  in  the  early  part  of  his  life,  there  is  too  much  art; 
even  carried  the  length  of  ostentation.  There  is  too  visible  a 
parade  of  eloquence.  He  seems  often  to  aim  at  obtaining  admira- 
tion, rather  than  at  operating  conviction,  by  what  he  says. 
Hence,  on  some  occasions,  he  is  showy,  rather  than  solid ;  and 
diffuse,  where  he  ought  to  have  been  pressing.  His  sentences 
are  at  all  times  round  and  sonorous;  they  cannot  be  accused  of 
monotony,  for  they  possess  variety  of  cadence ;  but  from  too  great 
a  study  of  magnificence,  he  is  sometimes  deficient  in  strength. 
On  all  occasions,  where  there  is  the  least  room  for  it,  he  is  full 
of  himself.  His  great  actions,  and  the  real  service  which  he  had 
performed  to  his  country,  apologizes  for  this  in  part;  ancient 


CICERO 

manners,  too,  imposed  fewer  restraints  from  the  side  of  decorum ; 
but,  even  after  these  allowances  are  made,  Cicero's  ostentation  of 
himself  cannot  be  wholly  palliated ;  and  his  orations,  indeed,  all 
his  works,  leave  on  our  minds  the  impression  of  a  good  man,  but, 
withal  of  a  vain  man." 

The  following  comparison  of  Cicero  and  Demosthenes  by 
Blair  is  worthy  of  insertion  here: 

On  the  subject  of  comparing  Cicero  and  Demosthenes,  much 
has  been  said  by  critical  writers.  The  different  manners  of  these 
two  princes  of  eloquence,  and  the  distinguishing  characters  of 
each,  are  so  strongly  marked  in  their  writings,  that  the  com- 
parison is,  in  many  respects,  obvious  and  easy.  The  character 
of  Demosthenes  is  vigor  and  austerity:  that  of  Cicero  is  gentle- 
ness and  insinuation.  In  the  one  you  find  more  manliness ;  in 
the  other,  more  ornament.  The  one  is  more  harsh,  but  more 
spirited  and  cogent ;  the  other  more  agreeable,  but,  withal,  looser 
and  weaker.  To  account  for  this  difference,  without  any 
prejudice  to  Cicero,  it  has  been  said  that  we  must  look  to  the 
nature  of  their  different  auditories:  that  the  refined  Athenians 
followed  with  ease  the  concise  and  convincing  eloquence  of 
Demosthenes ;  but  that  a  manner  more  popular,  more  flowery, 
and  declamatory  was  requisite  in  speaking  to  the  Romans,  a 
people  less  acute,  and  less  acquainted  with  the  arts  of  speech. 
But  this  is  not  satisfactory.  For  we  must  observe  that  the  Greek 
orator  spoke  much  oftener  before  a  mixed  multitude  than  the 
Roman.  Almost  all  the  public  business  of  Athens  was  transacted 
in  popular  assemblies.  The  common  people  were  his  hearers  and 
his  judges;  whereas,  Cicero  generally  addressed  himself  to  the 
Patres  Conscript*,  or,  in  criminal  trials,  to  the  Praetor  and  the 
Select  Judges ;  and  it  cannot  be  imagined  that  the  persons  of 
highest  rank  and  best  education  in  Rome  required  a  more  diffuse 
manner  of  pleading-  than  the  common  citizens  of  Athens,  in  order 
to  make  them  understand  the  cause,  or  relish  the  speaker.  Per- 
haps we  shall  come  nearer  the  truth  by  observing,  that  to  unite 
together  all  the  qualities,  without  the  least  exception,  that  form  a 
perfect  orator,  and  to  excel  equally  in  each  of  those  qualities,  is 
not  to  be  expected  from  the  limited  powers  of  human  genius.  The 
highest  degree  of  strength  is,  I  suspect,  never  found  united  with 


314  THE  ORATION 

the  highest  degree  of  smoothness  and  ornament;  equal  attentions 
to  both  are  incompatible ;  and  the  genius  that  carries  ornament 
to  its  utmost  length  is  not  of  such  a  kind  as  can  excel  as  much 
in  vigor.  For  there  plainly  lies  the  characteristical  difference 
between  these  two  celebrated  orators.  It  is  a  disadvantage  to 
Demosthenes  that,  besides  his  conciseness,  which  sometimes  pro- 
duces obscurity,  the  language  in  which  he  writes  is  less  familiar  to 
most  of  us  than  the  Latin,  and  that  we  are  less  acquainted  with 
the  Greek  antiquities  than  we  are  with  the  Roman.  We  read 
Cicero  with  more  ease,  and  of  course,  with  more  pleasure.  Inde- 
pendent of  this  circumstance,  too,  he  is  no  doubt,  in  himself,  a 
more  agreeable  writer  than  the  other.  But  notwithstanding  this 
advantage,  I  am  of  opinion  that,  were  the  state  in  danger,  or  some 
great  public  interest  at  stake,  which  drew  the  serious  attention 
of  men,  an  oration  in  the  spirit  and  strain  of  Demosthenes  would 
have  more  weight,  and  produce  greater  effects,  than  one  in  the 
Ciceronian  manner.  Were  Demosthenes'  Philippics  spoken  in  a- 
British  assembly,  in  a  similar  conjuncture  of  affairs,  they  would 
convince  and  persuade  at  this  day.  The  rapid  style,  the  vehement 
reasoning,  the  disdain,  anger,  boldness,  freedom  which  perpetu- 
ally animate  them,  would  render  their  success  infallible  over 
any  modern  assembly.  I  question  whether  the  same  can  be  said 
of  Cicero's  oration;  whose  eloquence,  however  beautiful,  and 
however  well  suited  to  the  Roman  taste,  yet  borders  oftener  on 
declamation,  and  is  more  remote  from  the  manner  in  which  we 
now  expect  to  hear  real  business  and  causes  of  importance 
treated/  Cicero's  orations  against  Verres  have  been  regarded 
by  many  writers  as  among  the  most  splendid  monuments  of  his 
genius.  Of  the  six  orations  against  Verres  which  have  come 
down  to  us,  Cicero  delivered  but  one.  Soon  after  the  trial  was 
begun,  Verres,  overwhelmed  by  the  evidence  of  guilt  which  was 
produced  against  him,  without  awaiting  the  decision  of  the  court, 
went  into  voluntary  exile.  If  he  had  made  a  defence,  the  other 
five  speeches  would  doubtless  have  been  delivered." 


Jacques  Benigne  Bossuet. —  He  was  born  at  Dijon,  France, 
September  27,  1627,  and  died  at  Paris,  April  12,  1704.  He 
ranks  as  the  most  celebrated  orator  France  has  produced. 
His  chief  works  are  an  exposition  of  Catholic  Doctrine,  a 


BOSSUET  315 

Treatise  on  Universal  History,  History  of  the  Variations  of 
the  Protestant  Church  and  the  Funeral  Orations  upon  which 
his  fame  as  an  orator  rests. 

Criticism  by  William  Mathews. — "  What  schoolboy  is  not 
familiar  with  the  religious  terror  with  which,  in  his  oraisons 
funebres,  the  '  Demosthenes  of  the  pulpit,'  Bossuet,  thrilled  the 
breasts  of  seigneurs  and  princesses,  and  even  the  breast  of  that 
King  before  whom  other  kings  trembled  and  knelt,  when,  taking 
for  his  text  the  words,  '  Be  wise,  therefore,  O  ye  kings !  be  in- 
structed, ye  judges  of  the  earth ! '  he  unveiled  to  his  auditors  the 
awful  reality  of  God  the  Lord  of  all  empires,  the  chastiser  of 
princes,  reigning  above  the  heavens,  making  and  unmaking  king- 
doms, principalities  and  powers ;  or,  again,  with  the  fire  of  a  lyric 
poet  and  the  zeal  of  a  prophet,  called  on  nations,  princes,  nobles 
and  warriors,  to  come  to  the  foot  of  the  catafalque  which  strove 
to  raise  to  heaven  a  magnificent  testimony  of  the  nothingness  of 
man  ?  At  the  beginning  of  his  discourses  the  action  of  '  the 
eagle  of  Meaux/  we  are  told,  was  dignified  and  reserved ;  he  con- 
fined himself  to  the  notes  before  him.  Gradually  '  he  warmed 
with  his  theme,  the  contagion  of  his  enthusiasm  seized  his  hear- 
ers; he  watched  their  rising  emotion;  the  rooted  glances  of  a 
thousand  eyes  filled  him  with  a  sort  of  divine  frenzy ;  his  notes 
became  a  burden  and  a  hindrance;  with  impetuous  ardor  he 
abandoned  himself  to  the  inspiration  of  the  moment;  with  the 
eyes  of  the  soul  he  watched  the  swelling  hearts  of  hearers ;  their 
concentrated  emotions  became  his  own ;  he  felt  within  himself  the 
collected  might  of  the  orators  and  martyrs  whose  collected  essence, 
by  long  and  repeated  communion  he  had  absorbed  into  himself; 
from  flight  to  flight  he  ascended,  until,  with  unflagging  energy, 
he  towered  straight  upwards,  and  dragged  the  wrapt  contem- 
plation of  his  audience  along  with  him  in  its  ethereal  flight.'  At 
such  times,  says  the  Abbe  Le  Dieu,  it  seemed  as  though  the 
heavens  were  open  and  celestial  joys  were  about  to  descend  upon 
these  trembling  souls,  like  tongues  of  fire  on  the  day  of  Pente- 
cost. At  others  times,  heads  bowed  down  with  humiliation,  or 
pale  upturned  faces  with  streaming  eyes,  lips  parted  with  broken 
ejaculations  of  despair,  silently  testified  that  the  spirit  of  re- 
pentance had  breathed  on  many  a  hardened  heart." 


316  THE  ORATION 

Criticism  by  F.  O'Connor. — "  The  oratory  of  Bossuet  knew 
three  distinct  phases,  the  first  of  which  was  marked  by  extreme 
detail  in  the  treatment  of  the  subject,  the  second  by  pathos  in  the 
narration  and  power  of  diction ;  the  third  by  increased  symmetry 
of  construction,  and  propriety  of  arrangement.  In  point  of  merit 
the  last  is  the  least,  and  the  first,  the  most  praiseworthy.  The 
speaker  draws  largely  upon  Holy  Writ  and  sacred  writings  for 
means  of  rousing  the  emotions  and  depends  principally  upon  the 
early  classic  writers  for  smoothness  of  style  and  grace  of  finish. 
The  orator  himself  is  no  less  deserving  of  admiration  than  his 
oratory  is  of  praise.  Living  though  he  did,  at  a  time  when  the 
king's  will  was  supreme,  he  still  recognized  his  conscience  as 
his  only  guide,  never  stooped  to  flattery  and  never  catered  to  the 
popular  passions.  He  aimed  especially  at  edification,  consist- 
ency and  truth,  and  seldom  failed  to  reach  his  mark." 

Edmund  Burke. —  He  was  born  at  Dublin,  January  12, 
1729,  and  died  at  Beaconsfield,  England,  in  July,  1797. 
Burke  was  a  celebrated  writer  as  well  as  orator.  His  cele- 
brated speeches  were  made  at  the  trial  of  Warren  Hastings,  and 
in  advocacy  of  the  freedom  of  the  press,  fair  treatment  of 
America,  Catholic  emancipation  and  economical  reform.  His 
name  is  identified  with  whatever  is  great,  elevated,  and  just, 
in  statesmanship  and  legislation.  He  is  also  famous  for  his 
speeches  and  pamphlets  on  the  French  Revolution. 

Criticism  by  John  Morley. — "  With  all  his  hatred  for  the 
bookman  in  politics,  Burke  owed  much  of  his  own  distinction  to 
that  generous  richness  and  breadth  of  judgment  which  had  been 
ripened  in  him  by  literature  and  his  practice  in  it.  Like  some 
other  men  in  our  history,  he  showed  that  books  are  a  better 
preparation  for  statesmanship  than  early  training  in  the  sub- 
ordinate posts  and  among  the  permanent  officials  of  a  public  de- 
partment. There  is  no  copiousness  of  literary  reference  in  his 
work,  such  as  over-abound  in  our  civil  and  ecclesiastical  pub- 
licists of  the  1 7th  century.  Nor  can  we  truly  say  that  there  is 
much,  though  there  is  certainly  some,  of  that  tact  which  litera- 
ture is  alleged  to  confer  on  those  who  approach  it  in  a  just  spirit 


BURKE 

and  with  the  true  gift.  The  influence  of  literature  on  Burke  lay 
partly  in  the  direction  of  emancipation  from  the  mechanical 
formulae  of  practical  politics;  partly  in  the  association  which 
it  engendered,  in  a  powerful  understanding  like  his,  between 
politics  and  the  moral  forces  of  the  world,  and  between  political 
maxims  and  the  old  and  great  sentences  of  morals ;  partly  in 
drawing  him,  even  when  resting  his  case  on  prudence  and  ex- 
pediency, to  appeal  to  the  widest  and  highest  sympathies ;  partly, 
and  more  than  all,  in  opening  his  thoughts  to  the  many  conditions, 
possibilities,  and  '  varieties  of  untried  being/  in  human  character 
and  situation,  and  so  giving  an  incomparable  flexibility  to  his 
methods  of  political  approach.  This  flexibility  is  not  to  be  found 
in  his  manner  of  composition.  That  derives  its  immense  power 
from  other  sources ;  from  passion,  intensity,  imagination,  size, 
truth,  cogency  of  logical  reason.  Those  who  insist  on  charm,  on 
winningness  in  style,  on  subtle  harmonies  and  fine  exquisiteness 
of  suggestion,  are  disappointed  in  Burke ;  they  even  find  him  stiff 
and  over-colored.  And  there  are  blemishes  of  this  kind.  His 
banter  is  nearly  always  ungainly,  his  wit  blunt,  as  Johnson  said, 
and  often  unseasonable.  As  is  usual  with  a  man  who  has  not  true 
humor,  Burke  is  also  without  true  pathos.  The  thought  of 
wrong  or  misery  moved  him  less  to  pity  for  the  victim  than 
to  anger  against  the  cause.  Again,  there  are  some  gratuitous  and 
unredeemed  vulgarities ;  some  images  that  make  us  shudder.  But 
only  a  literary  fop  can  be  detained  by  speeches  like  these.  The 
varieties  of  Burke's  literary  or  rhetorical  method  are  very  strik- 
ing. It  is  almost  incredible  that  the  superb  imaginative  amplifi' 
cation  of  the  description  of  Hyder  Ali's  descent  upon  the  Car- 
natic  should  be  from  the  same  pen  as  the  grave,  simple,  unadorned 
Address  to  the  King  (1777),  where  each  sentence  falls  on  the 
ear  with  the  accent  of  some  golden-tongued  oracle  of  the  wise 
gods.  His  stride  is  the  stride  of  a  giant,  from  the  sentimental 
beauty  of  the  pictures  of  Marie  Antoinette  at  Versailles,  or  the 
red  horror  of  the  tale  of  Debi  Sing  in  Rungpore,  to  the  learning, 
positiveness  and  cool  judicial  mastery  of  the  Report  on  the  Lords' 
Journals  (1794),  which  Philip  Francis,  no  mean  judge,  declared 
on  the  whole  to  be  the  '  most  eminent  and  extraordinary '  of  all 
his  productions.  But  even  in  the  coolest  and  dryest  of  his  pieces, 
there  is  the  mark  of  greatness,  of  grasp,  of  comprehension.  In 
all  its  varieties,  Burke's  style  is  noble,  earnest,  deep-flowing,  be- 


318  THE  ORATION 

cause  his  sentiment  was  lofty  and  fervid,  and  went  with  sincerity 
and  ardent  disciplined  travail  of  judgment.  He  had  the  style 
of  his  subjects;  the  amplitude,  the  weightiness,  the  laborious- 
ness,  the  sense,  the  high  flight,  the  grandeur,  proper  to  a  man 
dealing  with  imperial  themes,  with  the  fortunes  of  great  societies, 
with  the  sacredness  of  law,  the  freedom  of  nations,  the  justice 
of  rulers.  Burke  will  always  be  read  with  delight  and  edifica- 
tion, because  in  the  midst  of  discussions  on  the  local  and  the  acci- 
dental, he  scatters  apophthegms  that  take  us  into  the  regions  of 
lasting^  wisdom.  In  the  midst  of  the  torrent  of  his  most  strenu- 
ous and  passionate  deliverances,  he  suddenly  rises  aloof  from 
his  immediate  subject,  and  in  all  tranquillity  reminds  us  of  some 
permanent  relation  of  things,  some  enduring  truth  of  human  life 
or  human  society.  We  do  not  hear  the  organ  tones  of  Milton, 
for  faith  and  freedom  had  other  notes  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
There  is  none  of  the  complacent  and  wise-borrowed  sagacity  of 
Bacon,  for  Burke's  were  days  of  personal  strife  and  fire  and  civil 
division.  We  are  not  exhilarated  by  the  cheerfulness,  the  polish, 
the  fine  manners  of  Bolingbroke,  for  Burke  had  an  anxious  con- 
science and  was  earnest  and  intent  that  the  good  should  triumph. 
And  yet  Burke  is  among  the  greatest  of  those  who  have  wrought 
marvels  in  the  prose  of  our  English  tongue." 

Criticism  by  Albert  Smyth. — "  Edmund  Burke  is  sometimes 
ranked  first  among  the  writers  of  English  prose  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  There  is  something  imperial  in  his  style.  His  sonorous 
sentences  roll  and  toss  in  profuse  and  majestic  eloquence.  His 
thought  streams  from  him,  an  impetuous  and  abundant  torrent. 
His  resplendent  rhetoric  surges  forward  with  the  pomp  and  state 
and  endless  barbaric  variety  of  a  Roman  triumph.  His  eager- 
ness and  exuberance  betrayed  him  at  times  into  grave  faults  of 
manner.  His  early  and  successful  imitation  of  Bolingbroke  — 
by  no  means  a  flawless  model  —  set  a  permanent  mark  upon 
him.  The  high  virtues  of  simplicity  and  sobriety  are  not  his.  In 
imagination  and  expression  he  is  magnificent,  in  the  proudest 
sense  of  that  much  misapplied  term ;  but  his  literary  taste  is  not 
absolutely  pure,  nor  his  sense  of  proportion  true,  and  his  style  is 
often  overheated.  Whatever  the  place  to  which  he  may  be  en- 
titled among  the  masters  of  English  prose,  it  is  not  likely  that 
any  writer  will  take  precedence  of  him  for  subtle  political  wis- 


WEBSTER 


319 


dom  and  serious  and  fruitful  reflection  upon  the  principles  of 
government  and  legislation.  Mr.  John  Morley  has  said  of  Burke's 
three  pieces  on  the  American  War :  '  They  are  an  example  with- 
out fault  of  all  the  qualities  which  the  critic,  whether  a  theorist  or 
an  actor,  of  great  political  situations  should  strive  by  night  and 
by  day  to  possess.  If  their  subject  were  as  remote  as  the  quarrel 
between  the  Corinthians  and  Corcyra,  or  the  war  between  Rome 
and  the  allies,  instead  of  a  conflict  to  which  the  world  owes 
the  opportunity  of  the  most  important  of  political  experiments,  we 
should  still  have  everything  to  learn  from  the  author's  treatment, 
—  the  vigorous  grasp  of  masses  of  compressed  detail,  the  wide 
illumination  from  great  principles  of  human  experience,  the  strong 
and  masculine  feeling  for  the  two  great  political  ends  of  Justice 
and  Freedom,  the  large  and  generous  interpretation  of  expediency, 
the  morality,  the  vision,  the  noble  temper.'  However  transient, 
commonplace,  or  personal  the  theme,  Burke  never  left  it  with- 
out investing  it  with  the  splendor  of  history  or  introducing  into 
it  considerations  drawn  from  the  widest  range  of  political  institu- 
tions. Now  that  the  violence  of  party  strife  has  abated,  and  the 
figures  and  events  of  one  hundred  years  ago  may  be  impartially 
studied,  it  is  unlikely  that  there  should  be  any  dissent  from  Mr. 
Lecky's  opinion:  '  No  other  politician  or  writer  has  thrown  the. 
light  of  so  penetrating  a  genius  on  the  nature  and  working  of 
the  British  Constitution,  has  impressed  his  principles  so  deeply  on 
both  of  the  great  parties  in  the  State,  and  has  left  behind  him  a 
richer  treasure  of  political  wisdom  applicable  to  all  countries  and 
to  all  times.  .  .  .  There  is  perhaps  no  English  prose  writer 
since  Bacon  whose  works  are  so  thickly  starred  with  thought. 
The  time  may  come  when  they  will  be  no  longer  read.  The  time 
will  never  come  in  which  men  would  not  grow  the  wiser  by  read- 
ing them.'  " 

Daniel  Webster. —  He  was  born  at  Salisbury,  New  Hamp- 
shire, in  1782,  and  died  at  Marshfield,  Massachusetts,  in  1852. 
Like  Edmund  Burke,  he  was  famous  as  a  statesman,  orator 
and  lawyer.  His  chief  public  speeches,  (aside  from  those 
delivered  in  Congress  and  at  the  bar)  are  orations  delivered 
on  the  anniversary  at  Plymouth,  on  the  laying  of  the  corner 
stone  of  Bunker  Hill  Monument,  on  the  deaths  of  Jefferson 


THE  ORATION 

and  Adams.     By  many  critics  he  is  regarded  as  the  superior 
of  Burke,  and  the  greatest  of  English  orators. 

Criticism  by  Rufus  Choate. — "  Webster  possessed  in  a  won- 
derful degree  an  indefinable  personal  magnetism  which  impressed 
every  one  with  a  sense  of  greatness.  His  face,  his  eyes,  his 
voice,  were  such  that  whoever  looked  upon  him  and  heard  him 
speak,  felt  intuitively  that  he  was  a  man  of  most  extraordinary 
powers.  Sydney  Smith,  when  he  saw  him,  exclaimed,  '  Good 
heavens  he  is  a  small  cathedral  by  himself ' ;  and  Carlyle,  writ- 
ing of  him,  said,  '  He  is  a  magnificent  specimen.  As  a  logic 
fencer  or  parliamentary  Hercules,  one  would  incline  to  back 
him  at  first  sight  against  all  the  extant  world.  The  tanned  com- 
plexion; the  amorphous  crag-like  face;  the  dull  black  eyes  under 
the  precipice  of  brows,  like  dull  anthracite  furnaces  needing  only 
to  be  blown ;  the  mastiff  mouth  accurately  closed, —  I  have  not 
traced  so  much  of  silent  Berserker  rage  that  I  remember  of  in 
any  man/  His  multiform  eloquence  became  at  once  so  much  ac- 
cession to  permanent  literature,  in  the  strictest  sense,  solid,  attrac- 
tive, and  rich.  Recall  what  pervaded  all  these  forms  of  display, 
and  every  effort  in  every  form :  that  union  of  naked  intellect,  in 
its  largest  measure,  which  penetrates  to  the  exact  truth  of  the 
matter  in  hand  by  intuition  or  by  inference,  and  discerns  every- 
thing which  may  make  it  intelligible,  probable  and  credible  to 
another,  with  an  emotional  and  moral  nature  profound,  passionate, 
and  ready  to  kindle,  and  with  imagination  enough  to  supply  a 
hundredfold  more  of  illustration  and  aggrandizement  than  his 
taste  suffered  him  to  accept ;  that  union  of  greatness  of  soul  with 
depth  of  heart  which  made  his  speaking  almost  more  an  exhi- 
bition of  character  than  of  mere  genius ;  the  style  not  merely 
pure,  clear  Saxon,  but  so  constructed,  so  luminous  as  far  as  be- 
comes prose,  so  forcible,  so  abounding  in  unlabored  felicities,  the 
words  so  choice,  the  epithet  so  pictured,  the  matter  absolute 
truth,  or  the  most  exact  and  spacious  resemblance  the  human  wit 
can  devise ;  the  treatment  of  the  subject,  if  vou  have  regard  to 
the  kind  of  truth  he  had  to  handle, —  political,  ethical,  legal, —  as 
deep  as  Paley's,  or  Locke's,  or  Butler's,  yet  that  depth  and  that 
completeness  of  sense  made  transparent  as  crystal  waters,  raised 
on  winged  language,  vivified,  fused,  and  poured  along  in  a  tide 
of  emotion  fervid,  and  incapable  to  be  withstood.  The  quality 


WEBSTER 

of  Webster's  imagination,  which  was  of  an  historical,  rather 
than  poetical  cast,  had  much  to  do  with  the  power  and  peculiar 
charm  of  his  oratory.  But  it  was  his  simplicity  of  diction,  and 
his  perfect  mastery  of  pure,  idomatic  English,  which  gave  to  his 
discourses  their  distinctive  classic  elegance,  and  made  them 
worthy  of  a  permanent  place  in  our  literature.  As  specimens, 
therefore,  of  a  correct,  clear,  and  vigorous  style  of  composition, 
full  of  warmth  and  vitality,  these  orations  are  worthy  of  the 
most  careful  attention  of  every  one  who  would  perfect  himself 
in  the  use  of  the  English  tongue;  as  notable  examples  of  per- 
suasive discourse,  logical,  forcible  and  convincing,  they  especially 
commend  themselves  to  those  who  aspire  to  distinction  as  public 
speakers ;  as  containing  lessons  of  the  purest  and  most  disinter- 
ested patriotism,  they  appeal  to  Americans  everywhere,  and 
should  be  read  and  studied  by  every  American  youth." 

Criticism  by  William  Mathews. — "  Webster  was  not  a  rhetori- 
cian like  Everett  and  Wirt.  Though  nice  in  his  choice  of  words, 
he  was  not,  like  Pinkney  and  Choate,  constantly  racking  dic- 
tionaries to  obtain  an  affluence  of  synonyms.  Though  possess- 
ing an  ample  command  of  expression,  he  rarely  wastes  a  word. 
He  once  criticised  Watts  for  saying  in  a  hymn  that  an  angel 
moved  '  with  most  amazing  speed/  The  line,  he  said,  conveyed 
no  sense.  '  It  would  amaze  us/  he  added,  '  to  see  an  oyster  move 
a  mile  a  day ;  it  would  not  amaze  us  to  see  a  greyhound  run  a  mile 
a  minute : '  No  one  of  our  great  orators  had  a  greater  horror 
of  epithets  and  adjectives,  or  more  heartily  despised  all  grand- 
iloquence or  sesquipedalia  verba.  For  all  cant  and  rhetorical 
trickery, —  for  all  *  bunkum  '  talk  and  windy  declamation  about 
'  the  shades  of  Hampden  and  Sidney '  and  '  the  eternal  rights  of 
man/ —  for  cheap  enthusiasm  and  spread-eagles  generally, —  he 
had  a  supreme  scorn.  Few  orators  of  equal  imagination  have  so 
few  figures  of  speech.  There  are  more  metaphors  in  ten  pages 
of  Burke  than  in  all  of  Webster's  works.  In  discussing  a  subject 
he  loses  no  time  in  circumlocutions  or  digressions.  He  uses  no 
scattering  fowling-piece  that  sends  its  shot  around  the  object  to 
be  hit,  but  plants  his  rifle-ball  in  the  very  center  of  the  target. 
Commonly  he  prepared  himself  with  conscientious  care  for  his 
speeches, —  not  by  writing  them  out,  but  by  thinking  over  and 
over  what  he  had  to  say,  all  the  while  mentally  facing  his  audi- 


THE  ORATION 

ence.  In  many  passages,  no  doubt,  the  very  language  was  pre- 
chosen, —  selected  with  the  nicest  discrimination, —  especially  on 
critical  occasions,  and  in  the  closing  paragraphs  or  the  perora- 
tion. Some  of  Webster's  indiscriminate  eulogists  are  fond  of 
comparing  him  with  Burke.  The  difference  was,  that  one  had 
the  very  highest  order  of  talent,  the  other  had  genius.  Burke 
was,  like  the  poet,  '  of  imagination  all  compact,'  and  to  this  he 
added  profound  culture,  earnestness  and  moral  sensibility ;  Web- 
ster's forte  was  in  dialectics,  in  calm,  masterly  exposition,  in  mas- 
sive strength  of  style,  in  all  the  qualities  that  give  men  leader- 
ship in  debate.  As  another  has  said,  '  Where  Webster  reasoned, 
Burke  philosophized;  where  Webster  was  serene,  equable,  pon- 
derous, dealing  his  blows  like  an  ancient  catapult,  Burke  was 
clamorous,  fiery,  multitudinous,  rushing  forward  like  his  own 
'  whirlwind  of  cavalry.'  Webster  was  the  Roman  temple,  stately, 
solid,  massive;  Burke,  the  Gothic  cathedral,  fantastic,  aspiring, 
and  many-colored.  The  sentences  of  Webster  roll  along  like  the 
blasts  of  the  trumpet  on  the  night  air ;  those  of  Burke  are  like  the 
echoes  of  an  organ  in  some  ancient  minster.  Webster  advances, 
in  his  heavy  logical  march,  and  his  directness  of  purpose,  like 
a  Caesarean  legion,  close,  firm,  serried,  ^square ;  Burke,  like  an 
oriental  procession,  with  elephants  and  trophies,  and  the  pomp 
of  banners.  Webster  never  could  have  delivered  any  one  of  the 
speeches  of  Burke  on  the  trial  of  Hastings,  blazing  as  they  do 
with  the  splendors  of  a  gorgeous  rhetoric;  nor  could  Burke,  on 
the  other  hand,  have  made  that  overwhelming  extempore  reply  to 
Hayne,  so  full  and  running  over  with  mingled  logic,  wit,  irony, 
satire,  persuasion,  and  pathos." 

Various  Estimates  of  the  Oration,  Oratory,  and  the  Ora- 
tor.—  In  every  age  the  oration  has  received  extraordinary 
praise  and  attention.  Perhaps  its  most  ardent  admirers  may 
be  found  in  the  history  of  the  English  speaking  race  who  from 
time  immemorial  have  defended  and  preserved  the  largest  free- 
dom of  speech.  So  that  in  closing  our  study  of  this  prose- 
form  it  may  be  well  to  include  some  estimates  of  oratory  fur- 
nished by  modern  men  of  genius. 


VARIOUS  ESTIMATES 

Estimate  by  Henry  Ward  Beecher. — "  I  hold  that  oratory  has 
this  test  and  mark  of  divine  providence,  in  that  God,  when  He 
makes  things  perfect,  signifies  that  He  is  done  by  throwing  over 
them  the  robe  of  beauty ;  for  beauty  is  the  divine  thought  of  excel- 
lence. All  things  growing  in  their  earlier  stages,  are  crude.  All 
of  them  are  in  vigorous  strength,  it  may  be;  but  not  until  the 
blossom  comes,  and  the  fruit  hangs  pendant,  has  the  vine  evinced 
for  what  it  was  made.  God  is  a  God  of  beauty ;  and  beaut v  is 
everywhere  the  final  process.  When  things  have  come  to  that, 
they  have  touched  their  limit.  Now,  a  living  force  that  brings  to 
itself  all  the  resources  of  imagination,  all  the  inspirations  ot  feel- 
ing, all  that  is  influential  in  body,  in  voice,  in  eye,  in  gesture,  in 
posture,  in  the  whole  animated  man,  is  in  strict  analogy  with  the 
divine  thought  and  the  divine  arrangement ;  and  there  is  no  mis- 
construction more  utterly  untrue  and  fatal  than  this :  that  oratory 
is  an  artificial  thing,  which  deals  with  baubles  and  trifles,  for  the 
sake  of  making  bubbles  of  pleasure  for  transient  effect  on  mer- 
curial audiences.  So  far  from  that,  it  is  the  consecration  of  the 
whole  man  to  the  noblest  purposes  to  which  one  can  address  him- 
self—  the  education  and  inspiration  of  his  fellow-men  by  all 
that  there  is  in  thought,  by  all  that  there  is  in  feeling,  by  all  that 
there  is  in  all  of  them,  sent  home  through  the  channels  of  taste 
and  of  beauty.  And  so  regarded,  oratory  should  take  its  place 
among  the  highest  departments  of  education.  It  is  said  that 
books,  and  especially  newspapers,  are  to  take  the  place  of  the 
living  voice.  Never !  never !  The  miracle  of  modern  times,  in 
one  respect,  is  the  press ;  to  it  is  given  a  wide  field  and  a  wonr 
derful  work;  and  when  it  shall  be  clothed  with  all  the  moral 
inspirations,  with  all  the  ineffable  graces,  that  come  from  sim* 
plicity  and  honesty  and  conviction,  it  will  have  a  work  second 
almost  to  none  other  in  the  land.  Like  the  light,  it  carries  knowl- 
edge every  day  round  the  globe.  What  is  done  at  St.  Paul's  in 
the  morning  is  known,  or  ever  half  the  day  has  run  round,  in 
Wall  Street,  New  York.  What  is  done  in  New  York  at  the  ris- 
ing of  the  sun,  is,  before  the  noontide  hour  known  in  California. 
By  the  power  of  the  wire,  and  of  the  swift-following  engine,  the 
papers  spread  at  large  vast  quantities  of  information  before  myriad 
readers  throughout  the  country :  but  the  office  of  the  papers  is 
simply  to  convey  information.  Thev  cannot  plant  it.  Thev  can- 
not open  the  soil  and  put  it  into  the  furrow.  They  can- 


THE  ORATION 

not  enforce  it.  It  is  given  only  to  the  living  man,  standing  be- 
fore men  with  the  seed  of  knowledge  in  his  hand,  to  open  the 
furrows  in  the  living  souls  of  men,  and  sow  the  seed,  and  cover 
the  furrows  again.  Not  until  human  nature  is  other  than  it  is, 
will  the  function  of  the  living  voice  —  the  greatest  force  on  earth 
among  men  —  cease.  Not  until  then  will  the  orator  be  useless, 
who  brings  to  his  aid  all  that  is  fervid  in  feeling ;  who  incarnates 
in  himself  the  truth ;  who  is  for  the  hour  the  living  reason,  as 
well  as  the  reasoner ;  who  is  for  the  moment  the  moral  sense ; 
who  carries  in  himself  the  importunity  and  the  urgency  of  zeal ; 
who  brings  his  influence  to  bear  upon  men  in  various  ways ;  who 
adapts  himself  continually  to  the  changing  conditions  of  the  men 
that  are  before  him ;  who  plies  them  by  softness  and  by  hard- 
ness, by  light  and  by  darkness,  by  hope  and  by  fear ;  who  stimu- 
lates them  or  represses  them  at  his  will.  Nor  is  there,  let  me 
say,  on  God's  footstool,  anything  so  crowned  and  so  regal  as  the 
sensation  of  one  who  faces  an  audience  in  a  worthy  cause,  and 
with  amplitude  of  means,  and  defies  them,  fights  them,  controls 
them,  conquers  them.  Great  is  the  advance  of  civilization ;  mighty 
are  the  engines  of  force,  but  man  is  greater  than  that  which  he 
produces.  Vast  is  that  machine  which  stands  in  the  dark  uncon- 
sciously lifting,  lifting  —  the  only  human  slave  —  the  iron  slave 
—  the  Corliss  engine ;  but  he  that  made  the  engine  is  greater  than 
the  engine  itself.  Wonderful  is  the  skill  by  which  the  most  ex- 
quisite mechanism  of  modern  life,  the  watch,  is  constructed ;  but 
greater  is  the  man  that  made  the  watch  than  the  watch  that  is 
made.  Great  is  the  press,  greAjj;  are  the  hundred  instrumentali- 
ties and  institutions  and  customs  of  society ;  but  above  all  is  man. 
The  living  force  is  greater  than  any  of  its  creations  —  greater 
than  society,  greater  than  its  laws.  '  The  Sabbath  was  made 
for  man,  and  not  man  for  the  Sabbath/  saith  the  Lord.  Man  is 
greater  than  his  own  institutions.  And  this  living  force  is  worthy 
of  all  culture  —  of  all  culture  in  the  power  of  beauty ;  of  all  cul- 
ture in  the  direction  of  persuasion;  of  all  culture  in  the  art  of 
reasoning.  To  make  men  patriots,  to  make  men  Christians,  to 
make  men  the  sons  of  God,  let  all  the  doors  of  heaven  be  opened, 
and  let  God  drop  down  charmed  gifts  —  winged  imagination,  all- 
perceiving  reason,  and  all-judging  reason.  Whatever  there  is 
that  can  make  men  wiser  and  better  —  let  it  descend  upon  the 
head  of  him  who  has  consecrated  himself  to  the  work  of  man- 


VARIOUS  ESTIMATES 


-V5 


•kind,  and  who  has  made  himself  an  orator  for  man's  sake  and  for 
God's  sake."* 

Estimate  by  John  Lancaster  Spalding. — "  Oratory  is  the 
greatest  of  the  arts  —  greater  than  music,  than  poetry,  than 
painting,  than  sculpture.  The  orator  must  gather  into  unity  and 
harmony  all  that  other  artists  achieve  separately  —  must  be  at 
once  musician,  painter,  poet,  sculptor,  architect ;  must  be  able  to 
take  the  human  mind  and  heart  and  imagination  for  his  instru- 
ment and  play  upon  it  all  the  infinite  divine  cadences  of  rhythm 
and  reason.  He  must  stand  forth  before  men  as  a  man  clothed 
with  the  resonance  of  the  thunder-crash  and  with  the  searching 
power  of  the  forked  lightning ;  must  sing  to  his  audience  and  com- 
mand them  and  subdue  them  to  his  every  mood  and  thought ; 
must  have  power  to  transport  them  into  the  midst  of  sublime 
scenes,  of  tumultuous  oceans,  of  white  and  eternally  serene 
mountain  peaks;  he  must  know  all  the  melodies  that  soothe  like 
the  lullabies  of  mothers;  must  be  able  to  plead  as  only  love  can 
plead  —  to  rouse  like  a  clarion's 'note;  must  be  able  to  find  his 
way  through  the  labyrinthian  windings  of  the  heart  of  man,  with 
all  its  passions  and  prejudices,  and  issue  forth  heralded  as  a 
conqueror.  His  words  must  be  as  full  of  music  as  a  poet's,  as 
clear-cut  as  a  statue,  as  symmetrical  as  the  noblest  monument,  as 
rightly  ordered  as  an  army  in  battle  array ;  his  thought  must  un- 
fold itself  like  the  budding  leaves  and  the  blossoming  flowers; 
and  from  the  center  and  heart  of  it  all  he  must  rise  and  reveal 
himself,  not  as  an  actor,  but  as  a  man  and  messenger  sent  by 
God  to  proclaim  truth  and  vindicate  the  right.  He  must  have 
knowledge  of  history,  of  literature,  of  religion,  of  science,  of  the 
world.  He  must  be  all  alive  with  the  subject  he  discusses.  If 
his  thoughts  be  not  new,  they  must  glow  with  a  light  not  seen  be- 
fore; and  they  must  be  pure  and  high  that  they  may  appeal  to 
what  is  best  in  man.  He  must  utter,  not  what  the  arithmetical 
understanding  would  suggest,  but  what  the  soul  would  speak  to 
souls.  His  language  must  be  beautiful ;  his  words  simple,  chaste 
and  crystalline;  his  phrases  must  sparkle  and  glow  like  jewels 
on  the  brow  of  beauty.  But  he  must  ever  bear  in  mind  that  mere 
vesture  cannot  hide  the  unreality  and  vacancy  of  what  is  false  and 

*"  Oratory"—  By  permission  of  the  Penn  Publishing  Co. 


326  THE  ORATION 

vulgar.  Right  words  are  born  of  true  thoughts ;  and  true 
thoughts  of  noble  life.  Those  alone  who  take  infinite  pains  can 
hope  to  become  orators.  There  is  no  seeming  trifle  which  may 
be  neglected/  for  perfection  is  the  result  of  attention  to  little 
things.  He  who  would  excel  must  inure  himself  to  the  labor  of 
writing  and  rewriting  what  he  would  utter.  The  pen  is  to  the 
mind  what  the  plough  is  to  the  field.  Ploughs  do  not  sow  the 
seed,  but  without  the  culture  they  give  it  will  not  thrive  and  yield 
rich  harvest,  however  fertile  the  soil.  When  meditation  and  com- 
position shall  have  made  him  ^familiar  with  every  phase  of  his 
subject,  lucid  order,  accurate  expression,  and  copious  language 
will  come  as  the  fountains  burst  and  leap  in  spring.  Having 
aroused  and  illumined  his  own  spiritual  being,  he  will  have  a 
message  and  the  skill  rightly  to  deliver  it  to  his  audience ;  and 
not  to  them  only,  but  to  the  wider  world  to  which  the  wings  of 
the  press  shall  bear  his  words.  The  public-speaking  which  has 
politics  and  business  for  its  subject  is  useful  and  important,  but 
Fame  blows  not  her  trumpet  above  the  heads  of  those  who  do 
this  work.  They  are  talkers,  riot  orators ;  fortunate  if  they  talk 
logically,  forcibly,  to  the  point,  while  they  keep  themselves  free 
from  slang  and  other  offense  against  the  laws  of  speech.  But 
he  who  would  utter  memorable  things  in  perfect  form  must  dwell 
in  higher  regions  where  gleams  the  light  of  ideal  aims  and  ends ; 
must  think  no  labor  too  great,  no  self-denial  too  hard,  if  it  help 
him  to  become  a  master.  Like  the  mighty  Grecian,  he  must  love 
solitude,  be  willing,  if  need  be,  to  dwell  in  caves  by  the  resound- 
ing shores  of  the  loud  ocean;  must  take  for  his  companions  the 
immortal  minds  who  have  left  record  of  themselves  in  books.  He 
must  abstain,  train  himself  like  an  athlete,  and  accustom  himself 
to  all  exercises  that  invigorate  and  sharpen  the  intellect  or  harden 
and  supple  the  body.  He  must  stand  aloof  from  the  crowds  and 
despise  the  applause  of  the  vulgar  and  the  notoriety  which  is  with- 
in the  reach  of  criminals  and  prize-fighters.  He  must  be  wholly 
serious  and  sincere  and  keep  his  conscience  pure,  though  he  have 
not  bread  to  eat.  Great  manhood  alone  can  make  great  oratory 
possible.  Above  all,  the  orator  must  be  a  lover  of  truth  and 
justice.  His  sympathies  must  go  forth  to  the  toilers  who  do  the 
world's  work  and  are  God's  children.  Wherever  there  is  oppres- 
sion and  wrong,  he  must  be  ready  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  to  de- 
fend and  make  good." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 
FICTION 

Definition. —  The  term,  fiction,  is  of  Latin  origin  and  has 
various  meanings  when  employed  in  English.  The  widest 
meaning  attached  to  the  term  makes  it  a  synonym  for  fash- 
ioning, moulding,  shaping,  devising,  or  making.  For  ex- 
ample, Edmund  Burke  writes :  "  We  never  dreamt  that  par- 
liaments had  any  right  to  force  a  currency  of  their  own  fiction 
in  the  place  of  that  which  is  real."  A  second  meaning  at- 
tached to  the  word  is  that  of  fallacy  or  false  deduction.  Hence 
the  phrase :  "  A  fiction  of  the  brain."  Bacon  writes : 
"  They  see  thoroughly  into  the  fallacies  and  fictions  of  this 
kind  of  reasoning."  A  third  meaning  connects  fiction  with 
literature;  in  a  literary  sense,  fiction  signifies  that  which  is 
feigned,  invented  or  imagined.  Fiction  is  a  term  applied  to 
any  product  of  the  imagination  and  has  little  to  do  with  facts 
and  realities.  Like  poetry,  it  gives  to  the  imagination  the 
largest  possible  range.  Hence  it  may  be  applied  to  any  liter- 
ary product  of  the  imagination,  whether  in  prose  or  verse  or 
in  a  narrative  or  dramatic  form.  For  example,  the  parables 
of  the  Bible,  or  the  Cyropsedia  of  Xenophon  or  the  Hind  and 
Panther  of  Dryden  may  be  considered  as  fiction.  In  fact,  all 
departments  of  literature  contain  certain  elements  of  fiction. 
Examples  abound  everywhere. 

Restricted  Meaning. —  The  term,  fiction,  is  now  employed 
in  a  restricted  sense.  It  marks  a  sharply  defined  prose-form 
in  literature,  and  it  implies  story-telling  or  narrative.  In  con- 

327 


328  FICTION 

nection  with  this  prose-form  three  words  are  employed  almost 
as  synonyms  —  the  novel,  romance,  'fiction.  If  we  take 
fiction  in  its  strict  modern  meaning  as  a  prose-form  of  litera- 
ture, then  romance  and  the  novel  may  be  accepted  as  names 
for  separate  divisions  of  this  prose  literature;  romance  em- 
bracing the  earlier  work,  and  the  novel,  the  later  work  done 
in  the  field  of  fiction. 

Origin  of  the  Name  Romance.— The  term,  romance,  was 

first  applied  to  the  fiction  of  the  Middle  Ages;  originally,  it 
embraced  not  only  stories  of  adventure  and  legend  in  prose 
but  also  ballad  forms  and  long  narrative  poems.  The  trou- 
badours, who  were  the  novelists  and  story-tellers  of  their  time, 
employed  the  Romance  language;  whence  we  have  the  term 
romance  which  has  become  a  synonym  for  fiction. 

Subject-Matter. —  The  subject-matter  of  the  romance  em- 
braces all  kinds  of  heroic,  marvellous  and  supernatural  inci- 
dents derived  either  from  history  or  from  legend.  For  exam- 
ple, the  Romance  of  Charlemagne;  the  Arthurian  Romance. 
Hallam  writes :  "  The  fiction  of  the  Middle  Ages  rests  upon 
three  columns  —  chivalry,  gallantry,  religion."  This  fiction 
was  designated  as  romance  and  written  by  natives  of  the  north 
of  France.  Knight-errantry,  the  crusades,  feudalism,  a  general 
spirit  of  adventure,  furnished  plenty  of  incident. 

Scope. —  But  romance  is  not  a  peculiar  creation  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages.  It  is  a  characteristic  of  the  youthful  period  in  the 
growth  of  every  nation.  The  romantic  period  is  sharply  de- 
fined in  every  national  literature.  It  embraces  all  that  is 
legendary,  mythical  and  semi-historical  in  every  age  of  the 
world. 

Three  Kinds  of  Treatment.— The  romance  deals  with  its 
subject-matter  in  three  principal  ways,  thus  producing  three 


ROMANCE 

varieties  more  or  less  distinct.  In  the  first  place,  it  may  be 
frankly  romantic  in  the  exercise  of  the  imagination,  present- 
ing events  and  characters  that  are  beyond  the  range  of  any 
rational  belief.  The  author  has  either  a  childish  belief  in 
what  he  relates  or  he  tells  the  fanciful  tale  for  the  entertain- 
ment of  his  readers.  For  example,  Oriental  fiction  belongs 
to  this  class:  The  Arabian  nights,  Arcadia,  New  Atlantis. 
In  the  second  place,  the  author  may  relate  impossible  events, 
but  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  them  a  deceptive  air  of  truth. 
For  example,  the  adventures  of  Robinson  Crusoe  or  the  story 
of  the  Nautilus ;  Utopia.  In  the  third  place,  the  author  may 
use  these  imaginary  events  and  characters  in  a  symbolic  way ; 
and  then  romance  takes  on  the  character  of  allegory.  For 
example,  Pilgrim's  Progress,,  the  Holy  Grail,  Gulliver's 
Travels. 

The  Structure  of  the  Romance.— The  romance  resembles 
the  epic  in  plan  and  purpose.  It  is  divided  into  books  and 
chapters;  and  like  the  epic  introduces  characters  for  the  sake 
of  the  narrative  or  story.  Like  the  epic,  it  employs  the 
grand  style,  but  it  is  hampered  by  the  prose  medium  of  ex- 
pression. It  resembles  the  epic  in  emphasizing  the  liberties 
rather  than  the  limitations  of  the  imagination.  In  spite  of 
its  prose-medium,  it  ranks  with  the  epic  as  our  most  highly 
imaginative  literature. 

Plot  in  Romance. —  The  romance  contains  very  little  plot. 
The  narrative  is  as  simple  and  runs  on  with  as  little  subtilty 
and  entanglement  as  epic  narrative.  The  grouping  of  events ; 
the  deeds  and  experiences  of  the  various  personages;  their 
relations,  thoughts,  dispositions,  all  belong  to  a  simple  crude 
state  of  society.  Hence,  the  plot  is  easily  understood  and  un- 
raveled. One  reason  why  the  plot  is  so  simple :  the  romance 
follows  the  simple  chronological  order;  and  the  skill  of  the 


330  FICTION 

writer  is  not  expended  in  weaving  subtilties,  but  in  beautiful 
descriptions.  The  arts  by  which  the  narrative  is  made  vivid 
and  effective,  are  fully  displayed.  The  plot  may  involve  a 
single  story,  the  adventures  of  a  single  hero  like  Robinson 
Crusoe;  or  it  may  deal  with  several  distinct  series  of  adven- 
tures or  experiences.  For  example,  King  Arthur  and  the 
Round  Table.  There  is  always  a  common  bond  like  the 
Round  Table  for  these  distinct  narratives. 

Characters. —  The  characters  of  the  romance  are  seldom 
lifelike  or  human;  they  are  giants,  dwarfs,  fairies,  monsters, 
angels,  demons;  they  are  often  animals  or  personified  natural 
objects;  but  very  rarely  are  they  real  men  and  women.  The 
highly  imaginative  character  af  romance  naturally  implies  its 
remoteness  from  the  actual  world ;  so  that  real  men  and 
women  would  be  singularly  out  of  place  in  it.  Hence,  the 
romance  does  not  concern  itself  with  the  great  problems  of 
human  life.  It  deals  with  human  life  in  a  superficial  way; 
and  if  we  except  the  great  allegorical  romances,  God  and  the 
spiritual  world  receive  superficial  treatment  in  the  romance. 
The  modern  romance  comes  nearer  to  earth  and  to  reality 
than  the  romances  of  history,  but  the  imagination  still  runs 
riot 

Sources  of  the  English  Romance.— The  English  romance 
drew  its  material  from  five  chief  sources :  the  native  or  Celtic 
source;  the  French  source  dating  from  the  Norman  conquest; 
the  classic  source  reviving  the  story  of  Troy  and  the  legends 
concerning  Solomon,  Alexander  the  Great  and  others;  the 
Latin  source  divided  equally  between  Spain  and  Italy.  There 
are  then  in  English  literature  five  distinct  cycles  of  romance. 

Arthurian  Cycle. —  The  first  is  called  the  Arthurian  Cycle. 
It  dates  from  the  twelfth  century  when  Geoffrey  of  Mon- 


ROMANCE  331 

mouth  wrote  a  fanciful  history  of  the  old  British  kings.  For 
300  years  myth  and  legend  grew  up  around  Arthur  and  the 
Knights  of  the  Round  Table.  Sir  Thomas  Malory  collected 
the  various  romances  and  published  them  in  1485  under  one 
title,  "  The  Death  of  Arthur."  From  this  work  of  Malory 
comes  the  Arthurian  Cycle ;  episodes  from  this  cycle  have  been 
done  into  modern  English  by  various  writers;  for  example, 
the  lyric  treatment  of  "Tristram  and  Iseult "  by  Matthew 
Arnold.  The  fullest  treatment  of  the  Arthurian  Cycle  in 
modern  English  is  found  in  epic  form :  the  "  Idylls  of  the 
King  " .  by  Tennyson.  Tennyson  drew  all  his  material  for 
this  epic  from  Malory's  collection.  This  cycle  of  Arthur 
contains  all  the  elements  of  genuine  romance,  improbable  ad- 
ventures, marvellous  struggles  with  giants  and  dragons  —  all 
that  is  widely  imaginative.  It  also  contains  the  chivalry  and 
gallantry  and  the  purity  of  life  which  mark  the  Middle  Ages. 
Although  Arthur  was  a  British  chieftain  of  'the  sixth  century, 
the  romanticists  clothe  him  with  all  the  glory  of  a  contem- 
porary knight. 

Treatment  of  Passion. —  The  Arthurian  Cycle  is  remarka- 
ble for  its  treatment  of  passion  —  religious  passion  is  happily 
idealized  in  Sir  Galahad's  Quest  of  the  Holy  Grail;  earthly 
passion  in  its  highest  and  purest  form  in  Arthur;  guilty  pas- 
sion in  Lancelot  and  Guinevere.  In  his  epic  narrative  Ten- 
nyson gives  prominence  to  the  purifying  and  ennobling  in- 
fluence of  religion.  The  second  cycle  of  English  romance 
comes  from  France  and  dates  from  the  Norman  conquest. 
During  the  Middle  Ages,  England  had  a  French  court,  French 
schools,  and  for  the  most  part  French  literature.  French 
romance  circulated  in  England.  The  marvelous  stories  con- 
cerning Charlemagne  were  the  basis  of  a  cycle  similar  to  that 
of  King  Arthur.  It  assumed  the  form  of  extravagant  history, 
and  biography.  Charlemagne  is  represented  as  having  twelve 


332  FICTION 

peers  similar  in  character  to  the  Knights  of  the  Round  Table. 
These  romances  first  appeared  in  England  in  the  thirteenth 
century.  The  most  popular  romance  of  the  Charlemagne 
cycle  was  the  song  of  Roland,  one  of  the  twelve  peers. 
Several  translations  of  it  were  made  into  English.  But  the 
cycle  of  Charlemagne  had  no  permanent  place  or  influence  in 
English  literature.  An  English  version,  called  "  Charles  the 
Great,"  was  published  by  Caxton  in  1490.  Besides  the  great 
cycle  of  Charlemagne,  many  separate  romances  from  French 
sources  came  into  England.  For  example,  the  Romance  of 
the  Rose,  Flower  and  Leaf  re- written  by  Chaucer.  Another 
example:  Valentine  and  Orson,  translated  into  English  and 
published  by  Copeland  in  1560. 

The  Spanish  Cycle. —  Spanish  romance  centers  in  two 
heroes :  Amadis  De  Gaul  and  the  Cid.  The  former  was  a  son 
of  the  French  King;  three  books  of  romance  concerning  him 
appeared  in  the  first  years  of  the  fourteenth  century.  They 
were  in  1540  translated  into  French  and  brought  to  England. 
Many  English  translations  of  this  cycle  are  extant.  The  best 
modern  translation  was  made  by  Robert  Southey,  in  four 
volumes,  published  in  1803.  Spanish  romance  reached  the 
height  of  its  popularity  during  the  age  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
who  was  called  the  fair  Oriana  after  one  of  the  heroines  in 
Amadis  De  Gaul.  Besides  Amadis  De  Gaul,  there  were 
romances  concerning  a  native  Spanish  hero  of  the  Middle 
Ages ;  they  were  called  the  "  Chronicle  of  the  Cid/'  as  they 
first  appeared  in  the  form  of  history.  French,  English  and 
Italian  translations  were  made,  that  of  Robert  Southey  being 
the  best  in  English.  Spanish  fiction  in  the  Middle  Ages  fur- 
nished a  large  amount  of  material  for  English  authors.  This 
influence  continued  until  the  religious  and  commercial  rival- 
ries of  both  countries  developed  an  intense  national  hatred. 
The  influence  of  Spanish  romance  upon  English  letters  may 


ROMANCE  333 

be  said  to  close  with  Cervantes.  Spanish  romance  familiar- 
ized English  readers  with  a  larger  variety  of  abnormal  crea- 
tures than  they  found  in  native  or  French  sources  —  giants, 
dwarfs,  demons,  and  the  wonders  of  fairyland. 

The  Outlaw. —  The  Spanish  romance  is  also  responsible 
for  the  literary  treatment  of  the  outlaw.  English  romanti- 
cists grew  fond  of  this  theme  and  a  large  portion  of  English 
romance  is  devoted  to  such  heroes  as  Hereward  The  Saxon, 
Payn  Peverel,  and  the  Robin  Hood  cycle.  Outlaw  stories  in 
Spain  and  England  were  first  treated  in  ballad  form,  and  were 
a  part  of  the  folk  lore  of  both  countries  before  their  introduc- 
tion into  prose  romance  as  episodes  and  cycles.  The  long 
struggle  between  the  Moors  and  the  Spaniards,  and  a  similar 
struggle  between  the  Saxons  and  the  Normans  supplied 
plenty  of  material  for  this  kind  of  romance. 

Italian  Romance. —  Italy  shared  the  romantic  life  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  contributed  a  large  number  of  stories  to 
romantic  literature.  The  stories  of  Boccaccio  are  an  example. 
His  "  Amento  "  was  improved  by  Sannazarro  in  the  fifteenth 
century,  and  the  title  was  changed  to  Arcadia.  Sir  Philip  Sid- 
ney imitated  the  Italian  model ;  he  changed  the  setting  of  the 
story  but  retained  the  name.  Thomas  Greene,  a  contemporary 
of  Shakespeare,  wrote  on  the  same  subject ;  and  Shirley  finished 
the  English  series  in  1640.  The  pastoral  romance,  although 
rather  tame  in  comparison  with  stories  of  war  and  adventure, 
became  very  popular  in  the  age  of  Elizabeth.  Besides  the 
pastoral  romance,  Boccaccio  wrote  in  the  genuine  style  of  the 
romanticist.  His  Palamon  and  Arcite,  a  story  of  two  The- 
ban  youths,  gives  the  largest  scope  to  the  imagination.  It 
was  translated  and  considerably  modified  by  John  Dryden. 
Boccaccio  wrote  three  romantic  pieces  which  were  closely 
imitated  by  Chaucer.  The  first  was  called  Teseide  —  a  story 


334 

reproduced  by  Chaucer  under  the  title  of  the  "  Knight's 
Tale;"  a  second  called  "  Filostrato,"  the  basis  of  Chaucer's 
"  Troilus  and  Cressida."  The  Italian  method  of  mixing 
prose  and  verse  in  the  romance  was  not  adopted  by  Chaucer, 
although  later  English  writers  employed  it.  For  example,  the 
romance  of  Lalla  Rookh. 

The  Decameron. —  The  third  and  most  important  work  of 
Boccaccio  was  the  Decameron  —  a  collection  of  one  hundred 
stories  with  a  common  bond  or  thread  of  interest  running 
through  them.  These  stories  mark  a  transition  from  the  old 
romance ;  some  of  them  are  intensely  realistic  and  even  grossly 
licentious.  They  were  written  after  the  great  plague  of  Flor- 
ence in  1348.  They  represent  a  group  of  refugees  from  that 
city  amusing  themselves  like  Chaucer's  Pilgrims  by  telling 
stories.  On  the  influence  of  the  Decameron,  Dunlop  the  his- 
torian of  English  fiction,  writes  as  follows :  "  There  are  few 
works  which  have  had  an  equal  influence  on  literature  with 
the  Decameron  of  Boccaccio.  In  England  its  effects  were 
powerful.  It  inspired  the  Confessio  Amantis  of  John  Gower. 
From  it  Chaucer  adopted  the  notion  of  the  frame  in  which 
he  has  enclosed  his  Canterbury  Tales.  In  some  instances 
he  has  merely  versified  the  stories  and  episodes  of  the  De- 
cameron. As  early  as  1566  an  English  translation  of  the 
Decameron  was  made  by  Painter  under  the  title  of  the  Palace 
of  Pleasure;  and  the  effect  was  speedily  visible  on  the  litera- 
ture of  the  country.  Henry  Morley  compares  the  Decameron 
with  the  Canterbury  Tales,  and  finds  the'  latter  in  accord 
with  the  high  moral  and  religious  ideals  which  characterize 
the  romance  of  the  Middle  Ages.  He  writes :  "  The  pilgrims 
to  the  Shrine  of  St.  Thomas  A'Becket  are  like  the  Knights  of. 
the  Round  Table,  the  very  soul  of  honor  and  purity,  while  the 
men  and  women  of  the  Decameron  reflect  the  debased  state 
of  morals  in  the  Italy  of  the  fourteenth  century." 


ROMANCE  335 

As  a  Basis  of  English  Romance. —  Italian  romance  asso- 
ciates the  names  of  Petrarch  and  Ariosto  with  that  of  Boc- 
caccio. The  romance  of  Petrarch,  like  that  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  idealizes  woman  in  the  person  of  Laura.  This  work 
cast  in  poetic  form,  involved  the  writing  of  several  hundred 
sonnets.  The  sonnets  of  Shakespeare  are  an  English  imita- 
tion of  Petrarch ;  there  is  the  same  kind  of  connection  or 
thread  of  interest  running  through  them,  the  same  theme, 
with  a  slightly  different  estimate  of  the  felicities  of  married 
life.  Both  writers  agree  upon  the  immortality  which  would 
come  from  their  literary  effort  to  express  a  morbid  and  un- 
natural passion. 

Ariosto. —  Ariosto  produced  excellent  types  of  medieval 
chivalry.  The  story  that  influenced  English  writers,  and  be- 
came exceedingly  popular  in  England  was  his  Orlando  Furi- 
oso;  this  story  ranks  ahead  of  the  Decameron.  It  is  placed 
first  in  Italian  romance.  It  involves  all  the  old  themes  of 
war,  adventure,  love,  chivalry.  Lord  Byron,  like  Chaucer, 
went  to  Italy  for  many  of  his  subjects ;  he  admired  the  Orlando 
Furioso,  and  wrote  an  imitation  of  it,  called  Don  Juan. 
Byron  contrived  to  infuse  his  own  scepticism,  melancholy,  and 
hatred  of  humanity  into  the  English  imitation ;  otherwise  the 
Italian  romance  is  faith fuly  reproduced.  But  Italy  did  more 
than  furnish  models  for  English  writers.  Through  Italy 
came  the  revival  of  learning  in  Western  Europe;  and  with  it 
came  the  classic  cycles  of  romance.  In  Italy  the  Humanists 
in  the  persons  of  Petrarch,  Dante,  Boccaccio,  Leo  X,  re- 
vived the  study  of  the  ancient  classics.  The  heroes  of  Pagan 
mythology  and  early  Greek  and  Roman  history  became  themes 
for  romantic  treatment.  Long  romances  were  written  in 
Italy,  England  and  France  concerning  such  persons  as  Alex- 
ander, Cyrus.  Virgil,  Caesar,  Priam;  these  were  called  the 
classic  cycles  of  romance. 


336  FICTION 

Classic  Cycles. —  The  classic  cycles  of  romance  come  under 
four  heads.  First,  those  that  were  written  by  Greek  or  Latin 
authors  and  re-printed  in  Western  Europe;  for  example,  the 
Atlantis  by  Plato;  Babylonica  by  Xenophon;  Appolonius  o£ 
Tyre  by  Dionysius;  yEthiopica  by  Heliodorus.  Secondly, 
those  cycles  that  paraphrased  the  ancient  classics :  for  example, 
the  romance  of  Troy,  of  Annas,  of  Thebes.  Thirdly,  those 
cycles  based  upon  classic  history  not  yet  versified ;  for  ex- 
ample, the  Cycle  of  Alexander.  Fourthly,  those  cycles  that 
merely  reproduce  the  names  of  antiquity,  the  rest  being  the 
imaginative  work  of  the  medieval  writer;  for  example  the 
Romance  of  Thebes,  and  Carthage. 

The  Classic  Cycle  in  England.—  The  oldest  writer  of  classic 
romance  in  England  was  an  Anglo-Norman  trouvere  named 
Benoit.  He  belonged  to  the  Court  of  Henry  II.  In  the  year 
1184  he  brought  out  a  story  called  "  The  Romance  of  Troy." 
It  contained  30,000  lines,  and  covered  the  whole  heroic  period 
of  Greek  history.  In  this  lengthy  work  he  describes  the  arts, 
manners,  life  of  the  Middle  Ages;  although  he  does  not  state 
why  such  matters  should  be  introduced  in  a  romance  of 
Greece.  The  romance  of  Benoit  circulated  in  all  the  states  of 
Western  Europe.  Another  romance,  called  the  "  Trojan 
War,"  was  published  by  Joseph  of  Exeter.  It  was  written 
soon  after  Benoit's  work,  and  had  little  merit  compared  with 
the  former.  The  Troy-book  of  Lydgate,  declared  to  be  the 
first  book  printed  in  English,  was  a  translation  of  it,  brought 
out  by  Caxton,  1474.  A  popular  romance  of  the  classic  cycle 
was  the  story  of  Thebes.  .  Lydgate  translated  this  story  from 
the  French,  and  Chaucer  used  part  of  it  in  his  Canterbury 
Tales.  It  is  noteworthy  that  the  classic  cycle  in  France  and 
England  was  originally  written  in  verse;  as  soon  as  the  first 
prose  composition  appeared,  in  the  second  half  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  the  reading  public  at  once  lost  interest  in  the  classic 


ROMANCE  337 

romance.  The  last  classic  romances  published  by  Caxton 
were  those  of  the  ^ineid  and*  of  Paris.  Both  were  translated 
from  the  French.  The  most  popular  classic  romance  in  Eng- 
land during  the  Middle  Ages  was  the  story  of  Alexander. 
It  was  published  in  seven  languages.  Caxton  made  an  Eng- 
lish translation  at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century.  Alexan- 
der appealed  to  the  imagination  of  the  Middle  Ages,  for  it  was 
a  period  of  war  with  Asia.  The  crusaders,  on  their  way  to 
the  Holy  City,  sang  about  the  Asiatic  expedition  of  Alexan- 
der. The  ballad-writers  and  romanticists  accumulated  myth 
and  legend  until  a  whole  library  of  romance  centered  in  this 
hero. 

Contributions  from  Northern  Europe. —  English  romance 
was  enriched  with  material  from  northern  Europe,  although 
the  great  cycles  came  from  the  south  and  the  west.  Romance 
in  the  north  took  the  form  of  ballad  or  epic  literature;  the 
romance  was  called  an  Edda  or  a  Saga  by  the  Finns,  Danes, 
and  Scandinavian  races.  The  best  imitation  of  the  northern 
Edda,  as  regards  literary  form,  is  the  Indian  romance,  Hia- 
watha. Out  of  the  northern  material,  two  heroes  were  fur- 
nished to  English  romantic  writers.  The  first  and  most  im- 
portant was  Siegfried,  who  appeared  in  England  as  King 
Horn.  Siegfried  is  the  Arthur  of  Teutonic  romance.  He 
is  the  central  figure  of  the  Heldenbuch  wherein  is  found  a  col- 
lection of  German  heroes.  Siegfried  is  also  the  hero  of  the 
Nibelungenlied.  This  long  narrative  poem-  is  written  in  the 
style  of  all  medieval  romance;  and  the  work  contains  all  the 
German  legends  concerning  Siegfried.  A  comparison  be- 
tween the  literary  treatment  of  Siegfried  and  Arthur  in  Eng- 
lish romance,  reveals  several  points  of  similarity.  War  and 
love  are  the  connecting  links  in  each  story.  In  each,  the  treat- 
ment of  love,  though  often  extravagant  and  fantastic,  displays 
a  genuine  elevation  of  sentiment,  and  these  northern  roman- 


338  FICTION 

ces  reveal  nowhere  that  shameless  freedom  taken  by  Boccaccio 
and  other  southern  authors.  In  the  treatment  of  war,  there  is 
some  difference;  Arthur  of  English  romance  is  a  knight  who 
defies  the  power  of  men  alone;  whereas,  Siegfried  yields  to  no 
power  whatsoever,  whether  of  heaven,  or  earth,  or  hell.  He 
has  the  old  pagan  temper  of  the  hero  who  is  invincible,  mak- 
ing even  the  fates  tremble.  Hence,  the  Christian  coloring  of 
the  German  romance  is  not  so  marked  as  that  of  Arthur;  the 
German  hero  is  often  compared  to  a  Titan  of  Pagan  myth- 
ology. In  the  English  version  of  Siegfried,  known  as  King 
Horn,  the  hero  becomes  a  viking  of  the  north;  he  is  an  ad- 
venturer on  sea  and  land;  he  visits  Iceland,  where  several 
Sagas  record  his  deeds  of  bravery;  he  also  fights  the  infidel 
in  Holy  Land.  This  German  hero  ranks  with  Alexander  and 
Charlemagne  as  a  fruitful  source  of  romance. 

Havelock. —  The  second  hero  from  the  north  is  Havelock, 
the  Dane.  The  story  is  called  an  Anglo-Danish  romance,  be- 
cause part  of  the  scene  is  laid  in  England,  part  in  Denmark. 
The  basis  of  this  romance  is  the  frequent  migration  of  Danes  to 
England  during  the  Middle  Ages.  Havelock,  a  Danish 
prince,  weds  an  English  princess  and  becomes  king  of  both 
countries.  The  story  belongs  to  the  first  half  of  the  twelfth 
century.  Havelock  is  a  hero  of  much  smaller  proportions 
than  Siegfried,  although  his  struggles  for  both  kingdoms  were 
long  and  fierce.  This  romance  first  appeared  in  France;  the 
oldest  English  version  of  it  is  ascribed  to  Geoffrey  Gaimar,  an 
Anglo-Norman  trouvere.  On  account  of  its  direct  relation 
with  England  the  story  of  Havelock  became  popular  at  once. 
Besides  these  romances  of  northern  origin,  a  large  amount  of 
ballad  literature  and  folk-lore  came  from  the  north.  These 
ballads  which  may  be  styled  miniature  romances,  dealt  with 
the  Vikings  —  adventurers  from  northern  Europe,  who  went 
on  perilous  expeditions  to  England,  Ireland,  Iceland,  and  even 


ROMANCE  339 

Greenland.     The  largest  number  of  these  Sagas  are  found 
in  Iceland. 


Reasons  for  Abundant  Growth. —  The  romance  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  owes  its  existence  to  four  distinct  causes  which  ope- 
rated in  England  as  well  as  on  the  continent.  The  first  of 
these  was  the  crusades,  bringing  western  Europe  into  contact 
with  Asia  and  opening  a  wide  field  for  war  and  adventure. 
A  second  cause  was  the  pilgrimage  craze  which  spread  over 
Europe,  owing  to  the  intense  religious  enthusiasm  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  Besides  the  international  pilgrimages  to  the 
Holy  Sepulchre  in  Palestine,  and  to  the  tombs  of  the  martyrs 
in  Rome,  each  nation  had  its  special  shrine.  For  example, 
the  Shrine  of  St.  Thomas  A'Becket  at  Canterbury;  Loch 
Deorg,  in  Ireland;  Guadaloupe,  in  Spain;  Mariazell,  in  Aus- 
tria; Eberhardsclausen,  in  Germany.  Hence,  the  basis  for 
those  numerous  stories  which  circulated  like  the  Canterbury 
Tales,  the  best  modern  copy  of  which  is  The  Tales  of  a  Way- 
side Inn.  A  third  cause  for  the  multiplication  of  romances 
in  this  period  was  the  revival  of  learning  and  a  quenchless 
zeal  to  outrank  the  ancient  classics  in  the  literary  treatment 
of  heroes.  It  is  strange  that  the  Middle  Ages,  revealing  such 
good  taste  and  genius  in  other  fine  arts  (for  example,  sculp- 
ture, architecture,  painting)  did  not  reveal  the  same  taste  and 
judgment  in  literary  matters.  A  final  cause  for  the  growth 
of  romance  was  the  national  spirit;  each  nation  of  western 
Europe,  as  soon  as  it  was  carved  out  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
began  to  cultivate  its  own  national  heroes,  and  these  heroes 
were  selected  in  preference  to  foreign  themes. 


CHAPTER  XL 

FICTION    (CONTINUED) 

Native  English  Romance.-r-  English  authors  used  materials 
from  northern  and  southern  Europe.  In  the  beginning  they 
merely  translated  or  parodied  the  romances  of  the  continent. 
In  the  fourteenth  century  they  began  to  use  English  themes 
and  English  scenery,  and  gave  to  their  work  a  native  color- 
ing. The  age  of  Queen  Elizabeth  saw  the  best  types  pro- 
duced of  English  romance.  The  first  of  these  types  is  an 
allegorical  romance,  written  in  1342.  It  was  called  the 
Vision  of  Piers  Plowman.  This  allegory  involves  monks  and 
knights,  and  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
It  also  contains  personified  virtues  and  vices.  All  are  in- 
troduced on  a  grand  scale;  and  the  romantic  character  of  the 
piece  is  sustained  by  placing  the  characters  in  Dreamland. 
The  author,  while  asleep,  has  nine  visions,  and  his  work  is  a 
faithful  record  of  these.  Throughout  this  allegorical  romance 
there  is  a  large  amount  of  moralizing  which  is  a  distinct  de- 
parture from  the  romance  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  author 
aims  at  reforming  the  English  Church  and  English  society. 
Since  the  Vision  of  Piers  Plowman  was  written,  the  allegori- 
cal romance  has  been  a  favorite  in  England.  There  are  four 
noteworthy  examples  of  this  type,  produced  at  later  periods. 
Spenser's  "  Fairie  Queen  ";  Dean  Swift's  "  Tale  o/f  the  Tub," 
Addison's  "  Vision  of  Mirza,"  Bunyan's  "  Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress." The  "  Fairie  Queen  "  ranks  above  the  others  in  its 
rich  blazonry  of  romantic  ideals ;  the  allegory  involves  an 
ethical  system  for  the  complete  regulation  of  human  conduct. 

340 


In  this  religious  and  ethical  application  of  the  romance,  the 
practical  side  of  English  character  is  revealed.  Mere  ro- 
mance as  such,  did  not  satisfy.  Later  on,  the  same  practical 
trait  of  character  gives  us  the  novel  with  a  purpose. 

Romance  of  Travel.— The  second  type  of  native  English 
romance  is  that  of  travel.  English  romance  based  upon 
travel  began  to  develop  when  England  became  a  great  sea 
power  and  a  rival  of  Spain  and  France  in  such  remote  regions 
as  Asia  and  America.  The  wildest  stories  were  circulated 
concerning  the  natives  of  those  far-off  lands.  Imagination 
ran  riot;  mariners  like  Robinson  Crusoe  were  wrecked  on 
islands  of  which  geography  has  taken  no  account.  Travelers 
like  Sir  John  Mandeville  were  finding  cities  of  pearl  and  gold 
among  the  most  barbarous  peoples.  Romantic  marriages  like 
that  between  Captain  Rolfe  and  Pocahontas  added  the  element 
of  love  to  that  of  war  and  adventure.  As  adventure  in  the 
Holy  Land  inspired  the  romance  of  the  Middle  Ages,  so  ad- 
venture in  the  New  World  beyond  the  Atlantic  inspired  the 
romance  of  succeeding  periods.  English  soldiers  of  fortune, 
like  Frobisher  and  Drake,  roamed  the  seas  and  brought  home 
plenty  of  material  for  romantic  treatment. 

Euphues  and  Smith.; — The  first  specimen  of  the  romance 
of  travel  appears  in  the  Age  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  written  by 
John  Lily.  He  describes  the  travels  of  an  Athenian  youth 
called  Euphues.  The  Greek  is  represented  as  a  wanderer  in 
Italy  and  in  England ;  and  in  both  places  he  becomes  a  for- 
saken lover.  Pictures  of  Italian  and  English  landscape  are 
drawn;  the  manners  and  customs  of  both  peoples,  portrayed. 
According  to  Euphues,  the  ideal  woman  of  whom  romanti- 
cists dreamed  and  wrote,  was  the  Queen  of  England.  An- 
other example  of  this  type  is  called  the  True  Travels  of  Cap- 


342  FICTION 

tain  John  Smith,  reciting  his  adventures  in  America,  his  mar- 
velous exploits  with  the  Indians. 

In  Relation  to  the  Drama. —  Romance  of  travel  by  sea  and 
land  was  reflected  in  the  drama.  For  example,  the  Spanish 
Curate  by  Fletcher;  The  Tempest  by  Shakespeare.  Both 
dramas  are  based  upon  adventures  on  land  and  sea.  It  was 
common  for  the  hero  of  romance  to  meet  with  the  fate  of 
Prospero  —  to  be  wrecked  on  an  island  peopled  by  monsters 
of  the  Caliban  type.  Such  were  the  stories  told  by  sea-cap- 
tains at  English  firesides  when  English  vessels  sailed  every 
sea  in  search  of  new  lands.  Out  of  these  stories  came  the 
finest  type  of  the  romance  of  travel  —  Robinson  Crusoe. 

Fictitious  Travel.-—  Travel,  both  fictitious  and  real,  ha,s  fur- 
nished romance.  For  example,  "  The  Travels  of  Gulliver  "  ; 
"The  Ancient  Manner";  "The  Citizen  of  the  World"; 
'The  Voyage-  of  Wilkins" ;  "The  Shipwreck  of  John 
Daniel."  In  modern  times,  travel  forms  an  important  feature 
in  English  fiction.  For  instance,  the  literary  characters  of 
Kipling  move  between  England  and  India;  Rider  Haggard 
used  Africa  as  a  background  and  setting;  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson,  America  and  the  Islands  of  the  Pacific.  English 
authors  of  romance  enjoy  exceptional  privileges,  owing  to  the 
vast  expansion  of  the  British  Empire. 

The  Historical  Romance. —  The  third  type  of  native  Eng- 
lish romance  deals  with  history  and  is  called  the  historical 
romance.  It  is  more  fruitful  than  all  the  others  combined. 
The  first  historical  romance  was  written  by  John  Barclay  in  the 
closing  years  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  This  first  publica- 
tion was  called  Argenis.  The  author  describes  it  as  a  "  state- 
ly fable  in  the  manner  of  history."  At  once  it  was  translated 
into  five  languages,  and.  since  its  publication,  the  historical 


ROMANCE  343 

romance  has  been  popular  in  England.  The  story  deals  with 
England's  struggle  against  Philip  of  Spain,  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Spanish  Armada.  This  type  of  romance 
flourished,  owing  to  the  long  wars  which  England  has  kept 
up  with  races  in  remote  quarters  of  the  earth.  The  soldier 
of  fortune,  such  as  Thackeray  describes  at  Waterloo,  is  the 
usual  hero.  In  historical  romances  the  history  of  some  great 
war  like  the  American  Revolution,  or  the  struggle  against 
Napoleon,  is  involved.  As  an  example,  the  stories  of  Water- 
loo by  Maxwell ;  or  the  "  Peninsular  War,' '  by  the  same  au- 
thor. The  "Highlanders  in  Spain";  the  "Spy"  by  Feni- 
more  Cooper ;  the  "  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier,"  by  De  Foe,  are 
illustrations  of  the  same  type. 

In  America. —  Early  American  history  is  treated  in  the 
romances  of  Cooper  and  Irving;  Carleton  and  Lever  furnish 
that  of  Ireland ;  while  the  "  Scottish  Chiefs  "  fairly  represents 
the  historical  romance  of  Scotland.  A  more  adequate  treat- 
ment of  history  is  found  in  the  historical  novel  such  as  that 
supplied  by  Bulwer  Lytton.  When  the  novel  took  the  place 
of  the  romance  in  the  development  of  fiction,  two  important 
changes  were  made;  first,  the  events  of  history  were  narrated 
with  greater  regard  for  truth  and  accuracy;  secondly,  the 
characters  of  history  were  reproduced  in  their  habit  as  they 
lived,  not  as  impossible  beings. 

The  Romantic  Movement. —  The  romantic  movement  in 
English  history  began  at  the  dawn  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Five  prominent  authors  are  identified  with  its  origin :  Wal- 
ter Scott,  Wordsworth,  Shelley,  Burns,  Coleridge.  The 
movement  is  called  a  re-discovery  and  vindication  of  the  con- 
crete. It  was  a  protest  against  eighteenth  century  methods; 
the  moralizing,  the  abstractions,  the  perpetual  search  for 
standards  and  canons,  the  artificial  classicism  of  such  writers 


344  FICTION 

as  Alexander  Pope.  The  romantic  movement  developed 
along  two  lines :  First,  it  aimed  at  giving  the  imagination 
larger  scope  by  discarding  the  abstract  and  the  general,  the 
terminology  and  artifice  of  the  schools;  it  substituted,  in- 
stead, a  treatment  of  concrete  things,  the  individual  realities 
around  us.  Hence,  the  romantic  movement  was  called  a  re- 
turn to  nature ;  and  its  most  noteworthy  representatives  in  the 
beginning  were  Burns  and  Wordsworth.  These  writers  were 
constantly  employed  on  scenes  of  nature;  they  described  man 
as  he  lives  —  a  peasant  on  the  Scottish  highlands,  or  a  shep- 
herd in  the  Westmoreland  Valley;  whereas,  the  eighteenth 
century  writer  would  tell  in  rhyming  couplets  that  man  is  a 
rational  animal.  Compare  the  "  Essay  on  Ma-n "  with  the 
"  Cotter's  Saturday  Night  "  and  the  "  Excursion,"  and  the 
meaning  of  the  romantic  movement  becomes  clear.  It  gave, 
not  general,  but  particular  views  of  life  —  life  concreted  in 
meadow,  stream  and  cottage.  Secondly,  the  romantic  move- 
ment represented  a  return  to  the  past,  to  that  historical  ma- 
terial which  lends  itself  to  imaginative  treatment.  Hence, 
such  writers  as  Walter  Scott,  who  recalled  the  glory  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  It  is  said  of  Walter  Scott  that  he  re-created 
the  Middle  Ages.  It  is  certain  that  his  work  revived  a  gen- 
eral interest  in  that  period  of  English  history. 

Scott's  Environment.—  Walter  Scott  lived  in  what  is  known 
as  the  Border  District,  between  Scotland  and  England  —  the 
home  of  romance  where  rival '  English  and  Scottish  lords 
struggled  for  mastery.  A  study  of  the  legends  connected 
with  his  native  place  led  Scott  to  write  romance.  After 
writing  in  verse  many  of  these  legends,  such  as  "  Marmion  " 
and  the  "  Lord  of  the  Isles,"  he  treated  in  prose  and  on  a 
larger  scale  the  crusades  and  the  romantic  adventures  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  He  became  the  head  of  the  romantic  school 
tn  England;  his  influence  extended  beyond  England,  and  on 


ROMANCE  345 

the   continent    his    romances    were   translated   and   published. 
In  England  he  had  Coleridge,  Shelley,  Byron,  for  a  follovv- 


Growth  of  the  Movement. —  The  romantic  movement  started 
by  Burns  and  Walter  Scott,  soon  spread  throughout  England ; 
and  the  best  writers  either  devoted  their  whole  life  to  it,  like 
Wordsworth,  or  contributed  something  to  its  advancement. 
Wordsworth  spent  fifty  years  on  that  part  of  his  work  which 
meant  a  "  return  to  nature."  Coleridge  contributed  the 
Lyrical  Ballads  in  imitation  of  Walter  Scott's  early  work ;  he 
also  contributed  the  "  Ancient  Mariner."  Byron's  most  ex- 
tensive work,  Don  Juan,  was  a  valuable  addition  in  spite  of 
its  cynicism.  Shelley  made  substantial  contributions  in  the 
"  Witch  of  Atlas,"  "  Alastor,"  and  the  "  Revolt  of  Islam." 
The  "  Witch  of  Atlas "  is  his  best  story  —  an  allegorical 
romance  wherein  Fancy  personified  as  a  witch  wanders  over 
the  face  of  the  earth.  The  romantic  movement,  reviving  the 
history  of  the  Middle  Ages,  revived  an  interest  in  the  religion 
of  that  period.  The  English  Church  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury was  compared  with  the  English  Church  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  Hence,  the  reaction  against  protestantism  and  puri- 
tanism,  and  the  return  to  Catholic  ideals,  doctrines  and  prac- 
tices. Two  classes  of  reformers  arose:  the  ritualists  who 
brought  back  the  altars,  lights,  vestments,  the  sculpture  and 
painting  which  characterized  the  English  Church  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages;  the  tractarians,  who  restored  Catholic  doctrine 
and  dogma,  as  far  as  possible.  Shortly  after  the  romantic 
movement  began,  these  two  classes  appeared.  Cardinal  New- 
man acknowledges  his  indebtedness  to  Walter  Scott,  whose 
writings  first  turned  his  attention  toward  Catholicism.  Ke- 
ble,  another  tractarian,  tried  to  give  the  English  Church  a 
romantic  character,  and  the  result  was  a.  volume  called  the 
Christian  Year.  When  Cardinal  Newman  wrote  the  "  Via 


346  FICTION 

Media  "  he  believed  that  the  English  Church  could  be  cath- 
olicized according  to  the  ideals  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Other 
tractarians  were  of  the  same  opinion.  These  ideals  are  still 
cherished  by  Englishmen;  and  hence  the  romantic  movement 
is  silently  but  rapidly  undoing  the  work  of  the  Reformation. 

The  Revolt  Against  Realism. —  The  romantic  movement, 
so  popular  at  the  present  time,  represents  a  revolt  against 
realism,  the  school  of  which  Dickens  is  the  best  type,  and  Zola 
the  worst  type.  The  reading  public  is  weary  of  the  realistic 
story  with  its  dull  commonplace  and  matter-of-fact,  so  that 
any  fiction  now  aiming  at  popularity  must  be  either  wholly 
or  in  part  romantic.  Among  the  modern  .novelists  who  have 
made  the  largest  contributions  to  this  movement,  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson  ranks  first ;  Stevenson  composed  the  wildest 
stories  of  adventure,  in  such  books  as  "  St.  Ives,"  "  Treasure 
Island,"  "The  Master  of  Ballantrae "  and  "Tales  of  the 
Southern  Sea."  His  stories  are  clean,  wholesome;  and  he 
enjoys  the  distinction  of  being  a  great  stylist  as  well  as  a  suc- 
cessful author  of  romance.  For  the  mastery  of  style,  no 
better  modern  writer  can  be  read  or  studied.  Like  Steven- 
son, William  Morris  has  contributed  largely  to  romance.  His 
chief  stories  are  "  Ogier,  the  Dane  "  and  "  Sigurd,  the  Vol- 
sung."  Morris  opened  a  new  field  by  treating  the  romances 
of  Iceland.  His  translations  of  the  Northern  Sagas  are  a 
valuable  addition  to  English  literature.  Since  the  death  of 
Stevenson,  the  most  striking  figure  in  modern  romance  has 
been  Rudyard  Kipling.  When  his  Anglo-Indian  stories  first 
found  their  way  to  the  western  world,  they  were  immediately 
associated  with  the  adventures  of  Rider  Haggard  in  Africa; 
and  the  adventures  of  Stevenson  in  the  Southern  Sea. 
Thackeray  had  prepared  the  way  for  Indian  romance  by  writ- 
ing about  Colonel  Newcome ;  but  its  fullest  treatment  is  found 
in  Kipling's  stories.  Kipling  added  what  he  called  the  true 


ROMANCE  347 

romance  when  he  wrote  his  Jungle  books.  They  are  the  ro- 
mances of  the  animals.  He  interprets  the  conduct  of  wolves, 
bears,  panthers,  elephants,  and  translates  their  language  into 
English.  Kipling  is  not  a  romanticist  in  the  sense  that  Ste- 
venson was,  for  he  employs  always  a  realistic  setting  and 
says  much  about  real  things;  whereas,  Stevenson  built  his 
literary  fabrics  on  dreams.  Kipling  is  not  a  romanticist  in 
the  sense  that  Scott  was,  for  while  Scott  was  constantly  look- 
ing backward  to  past  ages,  Kipling  believes  in  the  romance 
of  the  present;  he  believes  there  is  as  much  romance  in  shot 
and  shell  as  in  the  old  tournaments  or  the  older  Round  Table. 

Romance  and  Science. —  The  romantic  movement  some 
thirty  years  ago  began  to  develop  along  scientific  lines;  the 
discoveries  of  science,  marvelous  in  themselves,  became  still 
more  marvelous  under  this  idealizing  process.  Examples  of 
this  kind  of  romance  are  "  Elsie  Venner,"  written  in  1861  by 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes;  it  was  followed  in  1871  by  the 
"  Coming  Race,"  written  by  Bulwer  Lytton.  The  "  Coming 
Race  "  sets  forth  the  Utopia  of  the  age  of  electricity.  Many 
of  the  sciences,  notably  Sociology,  Political  Economy  and 
Astronomy,  furnish  a  fruitful  field  to  the  romanticist;  Bel- 
lamy's "Looking  Backward,"  Ward's  "  Marcella "  are  ex- 
amples in  point.  The  romantic  movement,  at  present  so 
strong  in  the  United  States,  deals  with  our  early  colonial  his- 
tory and  with  the  types  of  character  that  flourished  in  such 
an  environment.  As  yet  American  history  has  not  sufficient 
perspective  for  romanticism.  It  is  too  recent;  but  the  events 
connected  with  the  discovery  of  America  can  be  employed  to 
advantage. 


CHAPTER  XLI 

FICTION    (CONTINUED) 

THE     NOVEL 

Rank. —  The  novel  holds  a  higher  place  in  fiction  than  the 
romance.  It  presents  a  more  careful  study  of  life  and  char- 
acter. Like  the  drama,  it  gives  us  character-creations; 
whereas  the  romance  resembles  the  epic,  because  it  gives  the 
greatest  prominence  to  incidents  and  adventures;  and  the 
hero  in  the  romance  is  treated  for  the  sake  of  the  story. 
Hence,  the  ease  with  which  a  novel  is  dramatized  in  com- 
parison with  the  romance  whose  characters  like  King  Arthur 
are  shadowy  and  uncertain  even  in  outline;  and  whose  situ- 
ations are  so  often  wildly  impossible. 

.  Meaning  of  the  Word. —  The  word,  novel,  originally  meant 
something  new  and  striking,  something  strange  and  unusual ; 
hence,  at  one  time  its  use  as  a  synonym  for  news  or  tidings. 
It  had  this  meaning  from  the  old  French  whence  it  is  de- 
rived ;  and  this  meaning  was  retained  during  the  age  of  Queen 
Elizabeth.  For  example,  Ben  Jonson  writes,  "  Are  there  any 
novels  this  morning,  sir?"  Massinger  writes,  "You  promise 
some  novels  that  may  delight  us." 

Restricted  Meaning. —  In  fiction  the  novel  is  defined  as  a 
prose  narrative  involving  as  much  plot  and  intricacy  as  a 
drama ;  it  presents  a  picture  of  real  life  and  possible  men  and 
women.  It  is  like  the  drama  in  substance  and  purpose;  plot 
and  motive  and  character-revelation  are  similar  in  both,  and 

348 


THE  NOVEL  349 

the  dialogue  employed  in  both  has  the  same  purpose.  Hence, 
the  novel  in  its  modern  form,  must  be  regarded  as  a  part  of 
dramatic  literature.  The  many  novels  presented  on  the  mod- 
ern stage,  are  a  proof  of  dramatic  value.  Marion  Craw- 
ford, a  leading  modern  novelist,  has  this  to  say  on  the  dra- 
matic value  of  the  novel :  "  A  novel  is,  after  all,  a  play ;  and 
perhaps  it  is  nothing  but  a  substitute  for  the  real  play  with 
live  characters,  scene-shifting  and  footlights.  Accordingly, 
it  is  true  that  any  really  good  novel  can  be  dramatized." 
Again,  he  writes :  "  A  novel  is  excellent  according  to  the 
degree  in  which  it  produces  the  illusions  of  a  good  play." 

Relation  to  Romance.—  While  the  novel  is  thus  allied  with 
the  drama,  it  retains  many  features  of  the  romance  from  which 
it  has  evolved.  First  of  all,  it  retains  the  prose- form;  it  also 
retains  the  method  of  direct  prose  narration.  The  dialogue  is 
frequently  supplemented  by  the  narrative  of  the  author. 
Hence,  the  action  in  the  novel  need  not  be  so  complete  or  so 
self-explanatory  as  in  the  drama;  for  the  author  can  easily 
inform  or  explain  where  the  dialogue  fails  to  bring  matters 
out  clearly. 

Stages  of  Evolution. —  The  novel  has  passed  through  three 
stages  of  evolution,  and  hence  three  distinct  classes  are  found 
in  literature. 

The  Romantic  Novel.— The  romantic  novel  comes  first  in 
the  order  of  time.  As  the  name  indicates,  it  is  closely  allied 
to  romance.  As  compared  with  other  novels,  it  gives  less 
prominence  to  the  plot  and  less  prominence  to  the  characters. 
As  it  marks  but  the  first  step  from  romance  toward  reality 
the  characters  presented  have  greater  definiteness  —  they  are 
creations  that  approach  more  nearly  to  the  real  men  and 
women  of  the  world.  But  while  these  characters  are  less 


FICTION 

vague  and  shadowy  there  is  still,  as  in  the  romance,  the  largest 
liberty  of  fiction.  The  plot  is  very  slight.  Hence,  the  ro- 
mantic novel  is  rarely  dramatized.  For  example,  Richard- 
son's "Pamela"  published  in  1740  and  called  the  first  novel 
in  English  literature.  The  contents  of  this  novel  are  quite 
different  from  the  romances  that  preceded  it;  there  are  no  de- 
scriptions of  gorgeous  palaces;  no  warring  knights  or  en- 
chanted castles.  Traces  of  the  romance  are  found  in  the 
allegory  which  forms  a  part  of  Pamela;  also  in  the  adven- 
tures of  the  heroine  who  is  abducted  and  has  several  hair- 
breadth escapes;  finally,  in  the  prose- form  of  the  story  there 
is  likewise  the  same  slender  plot.  But  the  characters  of 
Pamela  are  all  possible  men  and  women;  and  because  they 
approach  reality,  Richardson  has  been  called  a  realist.  It  is 
significant  that  even  in  his  early  time,  Richardson  called  one 
of  his  novels  a  dramatic  narrative.  A  more  recent  example 
of  the  romantic  novel  is  "  The  Last  Days  of  Pompeii  "  by 
Bulwer  Lyttoir.  Traces  of  the  romance  are  found  in  such 
characters  as  Arbaces,  the  Egyptian;  and  in  such  descrip- 
tions as  the  amphitheatre  just  before  the  eruption  of  Vesu- 
vius. But  the  plot  is  not  as  subtle  and  elaborate  as  that  of 
a  drama;  yet  the  reader  is  brought  face  to  face  with  certain 
grim  realities  of  life.  According  to  the  demands  of  the  ro- 
mantic novel  the  human  element  is  for  the  most  part  natural 
and  life-like. 

The  Idealistic  Novel. —  A  second  class  of  novels  was  de- 
veloped when  the  novel  advanced  completely  beyond  the  lim- 
its of  romanticism.  The  second  class  is  called  idealistic.  It 
differs  from  the  romantic  novel  in  that  it  never  violates  the 
fundamental  realities  of  life ;  although  employing  the  liberties 
of  fiction;  whereas,  the  romantic  novel  often  presents  a  char- 
acter or  a  scene  that  is  wildly  impossible.  This  truthfulness 
to  fundamental  reality  does  not  prevent  the  artist  from  treat- 


THE  NOVEL  35! 

ing  his  subject  in  a  highly  imaginative  manner.  In  fact,  the 
term  idealistic  implies  that  the  imagination  is  allowed  suffi- 
cient range,  and  that  it  is  continually  at  work  redeeming  from 
their  grossness  and  other  defects  the  realities  of  life.  Char- 
acters are  idealized;  the  back-ground  and  stage-setting  are 
idealized  views  of  nature.  It  is  precisely  this  idealizing  pro- 
cess which  makes  the  novel  a  work  of  art ;  for,  as  De  Quincey 
wrote,  art  is  such,  not  only  because  it  imitates  and  reproduces 
nature,  but  also  because  it  transforms,  idealizes  and  beautifies 
the  material  offered  by  nature. 

Indications  of  Idealism. —  Idealism  in  the  novel  finds  ex- 
pression in  three  ways:  first,  in  the  scenery  or  stage-setting. 
The  picture  work  in  the  novel  must  supply  the  ever-changing 
scenes  which  accompany  the  action  of  a  drama.  In  this  work 
the  author  enjoys  the  privilege  of  a  painter;  and  may  choose 
such  background  and  scenery  as  will  interpret  and  sustain 
the  dramatic  action  of  the  novel.  These  pictures  reproduc- 
ing landscape,  forest,  sea,  are  highly  idealized  views  of  na- 
ture; and  in  drawing  them  the  author  reveals  his  mastery 
of  words  as  an  art-medium.  And  just  as  the  modern  stage 
makes  a  special  feature  of  its  elaborate  and  beautiful  scenery, 
so  the  modern  novel  emphasizes  this  picturework  of  the 
author  in  order  to  assist  the  dialogue.  These  idealized  views 
of  nature  are  seen  to  best  advantage  when  the  author  skilfully 
chooses  a  region  or  district  which  easily  lends  itself  to  ideal- 
ization. For  example,  "  The  Mill  on  the  Floss/'  or,  the  Isle 
of  Man  in  "  The  Christian,"  or  Trelingham  Court  by  the  sea, 
in  the  "  New  Antigone."  A  still  better  effect  is  gained  when 
the  author  chooses  a  place  with  an  historical  background. 
For  example,  Florence  in  "  Romola  " ;  or  Rome  in  the  novels 
of  Marion  Crawford. 

Idealization  of  Character. —  This  idealizing  process  involves 
not  only  the  scenery,  but  the  characters  as  well.  The  noveU 


352  FICTION 

like  the  drama,  aims  at  character-creation ;  and  the  best  nov- 
elists are  those  who  create  character  as  well  as  paint  scenery. 
For  example,  such  characters  as  Romola,  Savonarola,  Adam 
Bede,  are  as  successfully  drawn  as  Hamlet  or  Lear  or  Mac- 
beth. The  characters  in  the  novel  are  expected  to  be  perfect 
after  their  kind;  and  this  perfection  involves  some  departure 
from  reality,  though  never  to  such  an  extent  as  to  place  any 
character  beyond  the  pale  of  possibility.  This  idealizing  pro- 
cess appears  at  its  best  in  the  chief  hero  or  heroine  of  the 
novel.  There  is  more  room  and  a  greater  demand  in  such 
cases  for  idealization. 

Idealization  of  Plot. —  Idealism  finds  expression  not  only 
in  characters  and  scenery ;  it  also  appears  in  the  plot.  The 
plot  of  a  novel,  like  that  of  drama,  attempts  a  portrayal  of 
the  entanglements  of  actual  life.  But  this  reproduction  is  ac- 
companied by  a  considerable  play  of  imagination.  Situa- 
tions are  colored  and  improved  so  that  the  reality  present  in 
outline  furnishes  a  basis  for  that  work  of  beauty  called  art. 
It  is  quite  enough  if  there  be  sufficient  realism  in  the  plot  to 
produce  an  illusion  on  the  mind  of  the  reader.  Next  to  the 
creation  of  character  the  development  of  the  plot  makes  the 
heaviest  demand  upon  the  author  who  is  an  idealist.  For  the 
complex  conditions  of  modern  life  must  be  portrayed  with  a 
large  degree  of  truth ;  and  these  conditions  do  not  favor  ideal- 
ism. Society  in  a  crude  and  simple  state  yields  much  more 
readily  to  imaginative  treatment. 

Some  Examples. —  The  writers  of  the  idealistic  novel  are 
legion;  the  best  representatives  are  Thackeray,  Hawthorne, 
Meredith,  George  Eliot.  Our  best  living  representative  in 
America  is  James  Lane  Allen.  Some  modern  authors  of 
idealistic  fiction  have  written  the  romantic  novel  as  well.  For 
example,  Lord  Lytton ;  the  bulk  of  his  fiction  is  an  example 


THE  NOVEL 

of  modern  idealism;  but  he  has  also  written  "  Rienzi,"  the 
"  Pilgrims  of  the  Rhine,"  the  "  Last  Days  of  Pompeii/'  in 
which  the  romantic  element  prevails. 

The  Realistic  Novel. —  Realism  is  the  third  and  final  step 
in  the  development  of  the  novel.  It  is  the  outcome  of  two 
distinct  influences  exercised  upon  modern  literature.  The 
first  influence  is  utilitarian ;  the  novel  for  its  own  sake,  or  art 
for  its  own  sake,  becomes  an  untenable  proposition;  it  should 
be  employed  for  a  higher  purpose ;  hence,  the  use  of  the  novel 
as  a  teacher  to  enforce  some  lesson  in  ethics,  religion,  politics. 
While  the  idealist  aims  at  art  for  its  own  sake  and  is  satisfied 
in  gratifying  our  aesthetic  nature  by  beautiful  creations,  the 
realist  demands  the  novel  with  a  purpose  —  the  novel  that 
goes  beyond  the  realm  of  art  and  plays  the  role  of  instructor 
to  mankind.  In  response  to  this  utilitarian  influence  we  have 
modern  novels  teaching  all  kinds  of  doctrines,  from  Bellamy's 
"  Looking  Backward  "  justifying  socialism,  to  "  Robert  Els- 
mere,"  preaching  agnosticism.  The  novel  with  a  purpose 
teaches  good  and  evil,  according  to  the  moral  equipment  of 
the  author.  It  has  worked  several  notable  revolutions  in 
modern  history.  For  example,  the  novels  of  Dickens  com- 
pletely revolutionized  the  poor-law  system  and  the  educational 
system  in  England.  A  novel  of  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe  was 
largely-zesponsible  for  our  late  civil  war,  and  the  ultimate 
abolition  of  slavery.  It  is  claimed  that  one  million,  four  hun- 
dred thousand  copies  of  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  were  put  into 
circulation  before  1861. 

Influence  of  Science. —  The  scientific  spirit  is  a  noteworthy 
influence  exercised  upon  modern  fiction.  Like  the  utilitarian 
spirit,  it  demands  the  intensely  realistic  in  the  novel.  Imagi- 
nation or  fancy  must  have  no  place  in  the  story ;  things  must 
be  represented  as  they  are  —  set  forth  in  all  their  nakedness, 


354 

deformity,  ugliness.  Those  who,  like  Zola,  have  yielded  fully 
to  this  influence,  have  ruined  the  novel  as  a  work  of  art. 
The  fundamental  error  of  the  realist  rests  in  assuming  that  a 
higher  grade  of  art  is  produced  when  every  detail  of  nature  is 
specified.  Zola  justifies  his  position  in  the  following  language : 
"  The  experimental  novel  which  is  sometimes  called  realistic, 
aims  at  presenting  this  whole  truth  of  nature,  not  a  beautiful 
fragment.  The  close  observer  finds  relations  which  involve 
every  possible  aspect  of  the  moral  and  physical  world.  And 
unless  he  be  false  to  his  profession  the  truly  artistic  writer  will 
deal  with  every  possible  aspect  and  manifestation  of  nature." 

The  Position  of  Zola. —  Zola  defends  his  position  by  assert- 
ing that  every  manifestation  of  nature,  no  matter  how  re- 
pulsive, is  a  legitimate  theme  for  art.  The  most  satisfactory 
reply  to  Zola  is  furnished  by  Goethe ;  he  writes :  "  It  is  the 
province  of  science  to  take  note  of  all  phenomena  of  nature; 
but  the  highest  art  must  satisfy  ethical  and  aesthetic  demands, 
while  remaining  true  to  nature.  It  must  pick  and  choose 
from  the  material  offered.  By  its  very  nature  art  is  selective 
and  must  discriminate;  for  it  cannot  find  the  beautiful  or  the 
ethically  sound  in  every  aspect  of  the  material  and  moral 
world."  Again,  Goethe  writes:  "Art  is,  as  Aristotle  de- 
scribes, an  imitation  of  nature;  but  this  does  not  mean  to 
imitate  blindly;  it  means  that  the  artist  must  select  and  com- 
bine from  nature  those  materials  into  which  he  breathes  his 
own  vivifying  ideal."-  The  best  literary  artists  agree  with 
Goethe ;  Matthew  Arnold  writes :  "  The  province  of  art  is 
to  make  a  judicious  selection  of  those  views  of  life,  which  in 
themselves  do  not  offend  the  moral  or  aesthetic  sense.  The 
drama  or  the  novel,  even  when  compelled  to  treat  of  the  mor- 
ally depraved,  is  never  compelled  to  go  beyond  the  bounds 
of  decency."  Ruskin  writes :  "  The  dissecting*  table  has 
no  place  in  the  province  of  art.  Under  the  plea  of  fidelity 


////:   A'O/ '/:'/. 

to  nature  and  to  the  laws  of  art,  novelists  of  the  realistic 
school  pander  to  the  most  vicious  appetites,  and  thus  lower 
the  moral  standard."  The  foremost  living  writers  in  mod- 
ern literature  belonging  to  the  school  of  realism  are  Zola, 
Tolstoi,  Ibsen,  Henry  James,  William  Dean  Howells.  The 
"  Kreutzer  Sonata,"  the  "  Resurrection  "  and  "  La  Terre  " 
are  perhaps  the  vilest  productions  of  this  school.  Modern 
English  fiction  is  almost  evenly  divided  between  romanticism 
and  realism  in  a  modified  form. 

The  Dramatic  Element. —  The  dramatic  element  in  fiction  — 
plot,  characters,  dialogue,  —  are  treated  in  full  in  the  depart- 
ment of  the  drama.  The  technique  of  the  drama,  given 
elsewhere,  should  be  studied  in  connection  with  the  depart- 
ment of  fiction. 

/ i/ltfvft  /cJi^M-     ^  e^tWZ-~  fr 

'tf^Ms-J*' 


CHAPTER  XLII 

FICTION    (CONTINUED) 

REPRESENTATIVE   AUTHORS 

The  Story  in  Hebrew  Literature. —  Two  charming  stories 
—  the  Story  of  Ruth  and  the  Story  of  Tobias  —  form  inter- 
esting episodes  in  the  history  of  Israel.  They  are  the  best  ex- 
amples of  the  short  story  obtainable  from  ancient  sources. 
How  much  historic  truth  lies  at  the  foundation  of  both  is  a 
question  that  does  not  concern  us  here;  some  critics  refer  to 
these  stories  as  splendid  examples  of  "  poetic  fiction."  But 
the  conservative  view,  as  expressed  by  Dr.  Francis  Gigot 
seems  to  be  more  reasonable :  "  the  books  are  both  his- 
torical, were  intended  to  be  so  by  their  authors;  and,  conse- 
quently, both  stories  rest  upon  a  foundation  of  fact.  Never- 
theless, as  stories  they  belong  to  the  department  of  literature ; 
in  plot,  character-sketching,  dialogue  and  imaginative  color- 
ing, they  approach  more  closely  to  the  Greek  ideal  than  any 
other  species  of  Hebrew  writing." 

The  Story  of  Ruth.— The  authorship  of  the  Story  of  Ruth 
is  anonymous;  some  critics  ascribe  it  to  Samuel;  others,  to 
Ezechias.  The  precise  date  of  its  composition  is  likewise  un- 
known, although  from  the  mixture  of  styles  it  is  regarded  as 
a  post-exile  work  based  on  a  pre-exile  narrative.  The  story 
which  Goethe  calls  "  the  loveliest  little  idyl  that  has  come 
down  to  us/'  tells  about  the  marriage  of  Ruth  and  Boaz.  In 
the  time  of  the  barley-harvest  Ruth  availed  herself  of  the  per- 
mission granted  by  the  Mosaic  Law  and  went  to  glean  in  the 

356 


THE  STORY  OF  RUTH 

field  of  Boaz,  a  rich  raan  of  the  place.  Soon  she  makes 
known  her  claim  of  marriage  to  him,  as  next  of  kin.  She 
marries  him  and  becomes  the  mother  of  Obed,  the  grandfather 
of  David.  The  story  closes  with  a  brief  genealogy  which 
constitutes  its  main  historical  value. 

Criticism  by  Richard  Moulton. —  "  If  the  chief  distinction  of 
the  Idyl  be  its  subject-matter  of  love  and  domestic  life,  then  in 
all  literature  there  is  no  more  typical  Idyl  than  the  Book  of  Ruth. 
Following  the  Book  of  Judges,  which  has  been  filled  with  blood- 
shed and  violence  and  the  heroism  of  the  sterner  virtues,  it  comes 
upon  us  like  a  benediction  of  peace.  It  contains  no  trace  of  war 
or  high  politics;  the  disasters  of  its  story  are  the  troubles  of 
family  life  —  exile,  bereavement,  poverty ;  while  its  grand  inci- 
dents are  no  more  than  the  yearly  festivities  of  country  life,  and 
the  formal  transfers  of  property  that  must  go  on  although  king- 
doms rise  and  fall. 

Now  the  interest  of  the  idyl  changes  to  the  picturing  of 
popular  manners  and  customs.  We  have  before  us  all  the  bustle 
and  excitement  of  wheat  and  barley  harvest  in  an  agricul- 
tural community:  the  progress  of  the  reapers,  and  the  maidens 
gleaning  behind  them,  the  common  meal  in  the  heat  of  the  day, 
the  master  coming  down  to  look  on  and  exchange  greetings  with 
his  people.  We  see  the  stranger  shyly  joining  the  gleaners,  the 
story  of  her  faithfulness  known  to  all,  from  the  humblest  reaper 
to  Boaz  himself.  With  a  strange  charm  there  come"  to  us  across 
the  gulf  of  centuries  the  delicate  attentions  shown  to  Ruth  by  all, 
the  little  contrivances  by  which  she  is  made  to  glean  plentifully 
without  knowing  who  has  befriended  her,  the  place  of  honor  ac- 
corded her  at  the  meal.  No  detail  of  social  life  is  too. petty  for 
the  idyl,  not  even  the  way  in  which  Ruth  eats  her  portion  of 
food  till  she  is  sufficed,  and  what  she  leaves  she  brings  to  her 
lonely  mother-in-law  at  home.  The  gloomy  day  of  Naomi's  life 
is  to  have  light  at  eventide,  and  the  first  gleam  of  that  light  is  the 
name  of  the  master  who  has  been  so  hospitable :  Boaz  is  recog- 
nized as  one  near  of  kin,  and  Naomi  rallies  herself  to  the  task 
of  seeking  a  resting  place  for  the  loving  Ruth.  More  manners 
and  customs  follow,  and  those  of  the  quaintest.  Ruth  follows 
exactly  the  instructions  of  Naomi  in  going  through  the  strange 


FICTION 

ritual  by  which  she  must  claim  the  wealthy  and  powerful  land- 
owner as  next  of  kin.  The  story  is  not  too  short  to  prevent  our 
catching  the  tenderness  with  which  Boaz  shields  the  stranger 
from  the  breath  of  gossip,  nor  the  refined  courtesy  by  which  he 
treats  the  great  service  asked  of  him  as  a  favor  done  to  himself : 
'  Blessed  be  thou  of  the  Lord,  my  daughter :  thou  hast  showed 
more  kindness  in  the  latter  end  than  at  the  beginning,  inasmuch 
as  thou  followedst  not  young  men,  whether  poor  or  rich.'  The 
scene  changes  to  give  us  the  minutiae  of  legal  procedure  in  the 
gate  of  the  city ;  and  here  again  contrast  of  character  appears, 
between  the  nameless  kinsman  who  is  ready  to  do  everything  that 
is  just,  and  Boaz,  who  will  go  further  and  be  generous.  So,  with 
all  formalities,  the  land  of  Elimelech  is  redeemed,  and  Boaz  takes 
Ruth  to  wife,  in  order  that,  according  to  the  interesting  Hebrew 
law,  the  child  born  to  them  may  be  considered  to  have  revived 
the  line  of  his  grandfather.  The  long  delayed  happiness  of 
Naomi  becomes  full  as  the  women  of  the  city  move  in  procession 
to  lay  the  new-born  babe  in  her  bosom,  and  sing  to  her  how  his 
name  shall  be  famous  in  Israel :  '  and  he  shall  be  unto  thee  a  re- 
storer of  life,  and  a  nourisher  of  thine  old  age :  for  thy  daughter- 
in-law,  which  loveth  thee,  which  is  better  to  thee  than  seven 
sons,  hath  borne  him.'  And  the  simple  idyl  in  its  last  words 
joins  itself  on  to  the  main  stream  of  history  by  telling  that  the 
new-born  Obed  was  the  father  of  Jesse,  and  Jesse  was  the  father 
of  King  David  himself." 

The  Story  of  Tobias.— This  story  is  the  first  of  the  deutero- 
canonical  writings.  It  relates  the  virtues  and  trials  of  To- 
bias, a  pious  Israelite,  who  undergoes  many  afflictions/  such 
as  exile,  captivity,  blindness.  Many  critics  regard  the  work 
as  an  historical  romance  inculcating"  moral  lessons  like  the 
parables  of  our  Lord. 

Criticism  by  Gigot. — "  It  will  be  easily  seen  from  these  general 
contexts  that  the  Book  of  Tobias  inculcates  important  religious 
truths,  such  as  the  value  of  prayers  and  almsdeeds,  the  minis- 
terial function  of  the  holy  angels  towards  men,  the  power  of  evil 
spirits  over  wicked  men,  the  chief  duties  of  parents  toward  their 
children,  gratitude  to  God  for  his  various  benefits.  Hence,  it  is 


IN  GREEK  LITERATURE  359 

not  surprising  to  find  that  scholars  should  have  been  divided  con- 
cerning the  actual  purpose  of  the  writer,  and  should  have  re- 
garded as  such  the  setting  forth  of  these  truths.  The  narrative 
was  written  to  show  that  the  truly  righteous  man  who  continues 
to  trust  in  God,  in  good  works  and  in  prayer  is  amply  rewarded  at 
last.  Piety  may  suffer  for  a  while,  it  receives  its  recompense  in 
the  end.  The  story  is  not  unlike  our  modern  novel  with  a  pur- 
pose." 

Fiction  in  Greek  Literature. —  Much  of  Greek  literature 
lies  in  the  department  of  epic  and  drama  where  the  imagina- 
tion was  given  more  scope.  The  Greeks  had  little  inclination 
to  clothe  dramatic  literature  in  the  garb  of  prose.  One.  re- 
calls the  Republic  of  Plato  and  the  Cyropaedia  of  Xenophon 
as  examples  of  that  imaginative  treatment  of  a  theme,  akin  to 
the  best  fiction.  In  point  of  fact,  the  Cyropaedia  is  an  his- 
torical romance.  It  belongs  to  the  classic  or  golden  age.  In 
the  silver  age  there  are  many  examples  of  romance,  such  as 
the  Babylonia  of  Jamblicus,  the  Habrocomes  and  Antheia  of 
Xenophon  of  Ephesus,  the  Ethiopics  of  Heliodorus,  the  Cli- 
topho  and  Leucippe  of  Tatius,  the  Daphnis  and  Chloe  of 
Longus. 

Criticism  by  Thomas  Perry. — "  In  its  own  time,  as  we  have 
said,  this  fantastic  forged  literature  was  of  great  service  in  fur- 
thering the  development  of  a  new  form  of  composition  which  was 
destined  to  have  much  influence  on  modern  writing,  and  the 
qualities  of  the  Greek  romance,  the  impossible  adventures,  the 
succession  of  catastrophes,  the  complicated  intrigues,  the  intense 
love-making,  had  long  formed  the  ingenious  exercises  of  orators 
and  speakers  who  lived  by  entertaining  hearers  and  readers. 
The  tendency  of  literature  towards  the  discussion  of  love  themes 
we  have  noticed  even  in  Euripides,  and  we  have  seen  how  much 
more  distinct  it  became  when  Greek  letters  found  their  new  home 
at  Alexandria.  Obviously,  the  disconnected  manner  in  which 
this  favorite  subject  was  treated  in  the  later  days  by  men  who 
sought  to  concentrate  all  their  acuteness  upon  a  brief  declama- 
tion or  essay,  stood  in  the  way  of  a  patient  development  of  the 


FICTION 

study  of  the  individual  character.  It  furthered  the  production 
of  rather  a  number  of  vivid  scenes  than  of  a  carefully  composed 
whole,  and  the  Greek  romances  that  have  come  down  to  us 
abound  in  incident;  they  lack  psychological  unity.  Invention  is 
exhausted  in  devising  a  succession  of  events ;  there  is  no  growth, 
no  careful  study  of  character.  The  fragmentary  nature  of  the 
previous  studies  for  the  romance  were  not  the  only  cause  of  the 
absence  of  careful  treatment  of  character;  another  explanation 
may  be  found  in  that  law  of  intellectual  economy  which  forbids 
the  combination  of  exciting  incidents  with  psychological  analysis. 
If  a  succession  of  catastrophes  will  sustain  the  reader's  interest, 
there  is  no  necessity  of  strengthening  this  by  describing  the  men- 
tal growth  of  the  hero  and  heroine.  It  is  only  when  readers 
have  learned  every  possible  combination  of  flood,  flames,  earth- 
quakes, wild  beasts,  robbers,  murderers,  and  poisons,  and  they 
no  longer  shudder  at  grewsome  casualties  because  they  know  that 
there  is  salvation  only  a  few  pages  ahead,  that  the  more  delicate 
and  more  difficult  work  of  portraying  a  human  being  begins. 
The  Greek  romance  did  not  attain  this  point,  which  was  left  for 
modern  times,  yet  it  is  sufficiently  creditable  that  before  their 
final  intellectual  extinction  this  wonderful  race  should  have  com- 
pleted their  task  of  founding  every  form  of  literature  on  which 
posterity  was  to  work. 

Greek  romances  do  not  concern  themselves,  after  the  man- 
ner of  contemporary  English  novels,  with  the  instances  of  social 
life  in  the  drawing-room  but  their  whole  tone  is  that  of  con- 
ventional society.  The  hero  and  heroine  are  always  of  gentle 
blood;  the  populace  has  its  modern  equivalent  in  the  chorus 
of  an  Italian  opera ;  they  fill  the  humble  position  of  rabble,  citi- 
zens, soldiers,  and  the  like.  The  action  of  the  stories  is  dis- 
tinctly busied  only  with  the  aristocratic  victims  of  circumstan- 
ces. This  pastoral  presents  rustic  life,  devoid  of  its  grimness, 
and  only  as  it  appears  to  people  of  position.  Yet  when  this 
is  granted  it  must  also  be  acknowledged  that  although  the  pic- 
ture drawn  is  a  conventional  one,  it  is  yet  well  drawn.  It  is  a 
fairyland,  but  a  charming  fairy-land  that  the  author  puts  before 
us.  The  love  of  Daphnis  and  Chloe  knows  all  the  delays  and 
hindrances  that  an  ingenious  invention  can  devise,  but  its  setting 
is  more  attractive  than  the  story  itself.  The  pictures  are  the 
work  of  a  time  which  lacked  any  real  enthusiasm,  which,  indeed, 


IN  LATIN  LITERATURE  361 

was  affected  by  some  of  the  most  worthless  interests,  but  the 
idyllic  touches  here  and  there  show  that  the  old  Greek  spirit 
had  not  wholly  died.  It  was,  however,  lamentably  checked  with 
rhetorical  artifices ;  the  language  is  a  mass  of  wilful  prettinesses, 
enough  to  place  the  story  among  the  sophistical  productions, 
although  its  exact  date  cannot  be  determined.  It  was  translated 
by  Amyot  in  1559  A.  D.,  but  its  ground  was  already  taken,  and 
although  it  enjoyed  great  popularity,  the  pastorals  of  Italy  and 
Spain  had  firm  hold  of  the  popular  taste,  and  the  work  of  Longus 
remained  a  sort  of  literary  curiosity,  a  wonderful  example  of 
grace  mingled  with  the  abundant  literary  artifice  of  a  dying 
civilization." 

Among  the  Latins. —  The  era  of  fiction  among  the  Latins, 
like  the  same  era  among  the  Greeks,  came  after  the  golden 
age,  so  far  at  least,  as  prose  is  concerned.  As  Latin  litera- 
ture is,  for  the  most  part,  an  imitation  of  the  Greek,  Latin 
classic  writers,  imitated  the  Greeks  in  employing  poetic  chan- 
nels for  all  work  of  the  imagination.  After  the  Augustan 
age  passed  away,  many  prose  romances  appeared,  representa- 
tive authors  of  which  are  Petronius  Arbiter  and  Apuleius. 

Petronius  Arbiter. —  The  date  of  his  birth  is  unknown ;  he 
died  about  66  A.  D.  He  was  a  Roman  author  often  identi- 
fied with  a  certain  Caius  Petronius  whom  Tacitus  mentions. 
Scarcely  anything  is  known  of  his  life.  In  their  history  of 
Roman  Literature,  Teuffel  and  Schwabe  have  this  to  say : 
"  To  Nero's  time  belongs  the  character  novel  of  Petronius 
Arbiter,  no  doubt  the  same  Petronius  whom  Nero  compelled 
to  kill  himself.  The  novel  was  written  in  twenty  books,  only 
fragments  of  which  remain.  It  was  a  satire  on  the  society 
of  Nero's  time,  and,  doubtless,  provoked  the  dissolute  emperor 
to  extreme  measures.  Though  steeped  in  obscenity,  this 
novel  is  not  only  highly  important  for  the  history  of  man- 
ners and  language,  but  it  is  also  a  work  of  art,  full  of  spirit, 
fine  insight  into  human  nature,  wit  of  a  high  order  and  genial 
humor.  The  story  contains  a  mixture  of  verse  and  prose. 


362  FICTION 

Criticism  by  John  Dunlop. — "  The  taste  for  the  Sybarite  and 
Milesian  fables  increased  during  the  reign  of  the  emperors. 
Many  imitators  of  Aristides  appeared,  particularly  Clodius  Al- 
binus,  the  competitor  of  the  Emperor  Severus,  whose  stories 
have  not  reached  posterity,  but  are  said  to  have  obtained  a 
celebrity  to  which  their  merit  hardly  entitled  them.  It  is  strange 
that  Severus,  in  a  letter  to  the  Senate,  in  which  he  upbraids  its 
members  for  the  honors  they  had  heaped  on  his  rival,  and  the 
support  they  had  given  to  his  pretensions,  should,  amid  accusa- 
tions that  concerned  him  more  nearly,  have  expressed  his  chief 
mortification  to  arise  from  their  having  distinguished  that  person 
as  learned,  who  had  grown  hoary  in  the  study  of  old  wives' 
tales,  such  as  the  Milesian-Punic  fables. — "  Major  fuit  dolor, 
quod  ilium  pro  literato  laudandum  plerique  duxistis,  cum  ille 
neniis  quibusdam  anilibus  occupatus,  inter  Milesias  Punicas 
Apuleii  fuit,  et  ludicra  literaria  consenesceret."  But  the  most 
celebrated  fable  of  ancient  Rome  is  the  work  of  Petronius  Arbi- 
ter, perhaps  the  most  remarkable  fiction  which  has  dishonored 
the  literary  history  of  any  nation.  It  is  the  only  fable  of  that 
period  now  extant,  but  is  a  strong  proof  of  the  monstrous  cor- 
ruption of  the  times  in  which  such  a  production  could  be  toler- 
ated, though  no  doubt,  writings  of  bad  moral  tendency  might  be 
circulated  before  the  invention  of  printing,  without  arguing  the 
depravity  they  would  have  evinced,  if  presented  to  the  world 
subsequent  to  that  period. 

A  story  nearly  the  same  with  that  in  Petronius  exists  under 
the  title  of  the  Widow  who  was  Comforted,  in  the  book  known 
in  this  country  by  the  name  of  the  Seven  Wise  Masters,  which 
is  one  of  the  oldest  collections  of  oriental  stories.  There,  how- 
ever, the  levity  of  the  widow  is  aggravated  by  the  circumstance 
that  the  husband  had  died  in  consequence  of  alarm  at  a  danger 
to  which  his  wife  had  been  exposed,  and  that  she  consented  to 
mutilate  his  body  in  order  to  give  it  a  perfect  resemblance  to 
that  of  the  malefactor  which  had  been  taken  down  from  the  cross. 
This  story  of  female  levity  has  frequently  been  imitated,  both 
in  its  classical  and  oriental  circumstances.  It  is  the  "  Fabliau 
De  le  Femme  qui  se  fist  putain  siir  la  fosse  de  son  mari" 
Pere  du  Halde,  in  his  History  of  China,  informs  us  that  it  is  a 
common  story  in  that  empire;  but  the  most  singular  place  for 
the  introduction  of  such  a  tale  was  the  Rule  and  Exercise  of  Holv 


IN  LATIN  LITERATURE  363 

Dying,  by  Jeremy  Taylor,  where  it  forms  part  of  the  5th  chap- 
ter, entitled,  "  Of  the  Contingencies  of  Death  and  Treating  our 
Dead  "  (vol.  5).  The  Latin  writers  seem  to  have  been  uniform- 
ly more  happy  in  their  episodes  than  in  the  principal  subject." 

Lucius  Apuleius. —  He  was  born  at  Meclaura,  Numidia, 
about  125  A.  D.  He  is  known  as  a  Roman  Platonic  philos- 
opher and  rhetorician.  He  is  famous  in  literature  for  hav- 
ing written  an  "  Apology  "  and  the  romance  of  the  "  Golden 
Ass." 

Criticism  by  Henry  Wilson. — "  There  is  little  of  Apuleius' 
own  invention  in  the  work  on  which  his  fame  principally  rests. 
The  Metamorphoses  or  Golden  Ass  (which  latter  title  seems  not 
to  be  the  author's  own,  but  to  have  been  bestowed  in  compli- 
ment), was  founded  on  a  narrative  in  the  Metamorphoses  of 
Lucius  of  Patrae,  a  work  extant  in  the  time  of  Photius.  From 
Photius'  account  (impugned,  however,  by  Wieland  and  P.  L. 
Courier)  this  book  would  seem  to  have  consisted  of  a  collection 
of  marvelous  stories  related  in  an  inartistic  fashion,  and  in  per- 
fect good  faith.  The  literary  capabilities  of  this  particular  nar- 
rative attracted  the  attention  of  Apuleius'  contemporary,  Lucian, 
who  proceeded  to  work  it  up  in  his  own  manner,  adhering,  as 
Photius  seems  to  indicate,  very  closely  to  the  original,  but  giving 
it  a  comic  and  satiric  turn.  Apuleius  followed  this  rifacimcnto, 
making  it,  however,  the  ground-work  of  an  elaborate  romance, 
interspersed  with  numerous  episodes,  of  which  the  beautiful  story 
of  Cupid  and  Psyche  is  the  most  celebrated,  and  altering  the 
denouement  to  suit  the  religious  revival  of  which  he  was  an 
apostle.  There  is  no  reason  to  conclude  with  Warburton,  that 
he  wrote  in  direct  antagonism  to  Christianity;  or  with  Thomas 
Taylor,  that  '  his  intention  was  to  show  that  the  man  who  gives 
himself  to  a  voluptuous  life  becomes  a  beast.'  The  book  is. 
nevertheless,  a  remarkable  illustration  of  the  contemporary  reac- 
tion against  a  period  of  scepticism,  of  the  general  appetite  for 
miracle  and  magic,  and  of  the  influx  of  Oriental  and  Egyptian 
ideas  into  the  old  theology.  It  is  also  composed  with  a  well- 
marked  literary  aim,  defined  by  Kretzschmann  as  the  emulation 
of  the  Greek  sophist,  and  the  transplantation  of  their  tours  dc 


364  FICTION 

force  into  the  Latin  language.  Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  charac- 
teristic of  Apuleius  than  his  versatility,  unless  that  it  be  his 
ostentation  and  self-confidence  in  the  display  of  it.  The  digni- 
fied, the  ludicrous,  the  voluptuous,  the  horrible,  succeed  each 
other  with  bewildering  rapidity ;  fancy  and  feeling  are  every- 
where apparent,  but  not  less  so  affectation,  meretricious  ornament, 
and  that  effect  to  say  everything  finely  which  prevents  any- 
thing being  said  well.  The  Latinity  has  a  strong  African  colour- 
ing, and  is  crammed  with  obsolete  words,  agreeably  to  the  taste 
of  the  time.  Few  books  accordingly  suffer  less  by  translation. 
When  these  defects  are  mitigated  or  overlooked,  the  Golden  Ass 
will  be  pronounced  a  most  successful  work,  original  in  treatment 
though  not  in  invention,  invaluable  as  an  illustration  of  ancient 
manners,  and  full  of  entertainment  from  beginning  to  end.  The 
most  famous  and  poetically  beautiful  portion  is  the  episode  of 
Cupid  and  Psyche,  adapted  from  a  popular  legend  of  which 
traces  are  found  in  most  fairy  mythologies,  which  explains  the 
seeming  incongruity  of  its  being  placed  in  the  mouth  of  an  old 
hag.  As  observed  by  Friedlander,  this  discriminating  recog- 
nition of  the  beauty  of  a  wild  flower  of  folk  lore  is  as  much  to 
the  credit  of  Apuleius'  taste  and  feeling  as  the  invention  of  it 
could  have  been  to  his  imagination.  The  allegorical  purport  he 
has  infused  into  it  is  his  own,  and  entirely  in  the  spirit  of  the 
Platonic  philosophy.  Don  Quixote's  adventure  with  the  wine- 
skins, and  Gil  Bias'  captivity  among  the  robbers,  are  palpably 
borrowed  from  Apuleius ;  and  several  of  his  humorous  episodes, 
probably  current  as  popular  stories  long  before  his  time,  reappear 
in  Boccaccio." 

Cervantes. —  He  was  born  near  Madrid  in  1547;  died  in 
Madrid,  1616.  He  became  a  soldier  of  fortune  under  Don 
John  of  Austria,  spent  five  years  in  slavery,  in  Algiers;  and. 
on  the  whole,  led  rather  a  romantic  life.  He  wrote  a  large 
number  of  novels,  plays  and  romances.  Outside  of  Spain 
he  is  best  known  as  the  author  of  Don  Quixote  —  a  work 
which  entitles  him  to  rank  among  the  greatest  authors  of  fic- 
tion. 


IN  SPANISH  LITERATURE  365 

Criticism  by  Henry  Watts. — "  There  had  appeared,  up  to 
1605,  no  book  since  the  invention  of  printing  which  had  so  many 
readers.  To  that  artificial  age,  reared  in  the  insipid  extrava- 
gances of  the  successors  of  Amadis,  Don  Quixote  was  as  the 
dawn  of  a  new  revelation.  The  humour,  equally  simple  and 
deep,  the  easy,  careless  grace  of  the  narrative,  the  fine  wisdom 
and  tenderness,  the  true  charity,  of  this  book  which  professed 
to  be  a  burlesque  of  the  romances  of  chivalry,  were  qualities  as 
rare  as  they  were  delightful  in  Spanish  literature.  Even  those 
who  missed  the  allegory  and  were  insensible  to  the~  satire  could 
not  but  enjoy  the  story  with  its  fresh  and  lively  pictures  of  na- 
tional life  and  character.  That  which  has  become,  to  use  the 
phrase  of  Sainte-Beuve,  '  The  book  of  humanity,'  was  no  less 
successful  in  its  age -as  a  book  of  popular  recreation.  The  author 
himself  was  probably  amazed  at  his  own  success.  Like  his  great 
contemporary,  Shakespeare,  while  careful  of  his  lesser  works  he 
seemed  to  have  abandoned  his  masterpiece  to  the  printers  with 
scarcely  a  thought  of  his  literary  reputation.  All  the  first  edi- 
tions of  Don  Quixote  swarm  with  blunders  of  the  most  extraor- 
dinary kind,  proving  that  Cervantes  could  never  have  revised  the 
printing,  even  if  he  had  looked  through  his  manuscript  before 
committing  it  to  the  press.  He  is  made  to  forget  in  one  chapter 
what  he  had  written  in  another.  He  confounds  even  the  names 
of  his  characters,  calling  Sancho's  wife  Theresa  in  one  place  and 
Maria  in  another — 'the  very  blunders  of  which  he  afterwards 
accused  his  enemy,  Avellaneda.  He  makes  Sancho  ride  his  ass 
immediately  after  it  had  been  stolen  by  Gines  de  Passamonte, 
and  bewail  its  loss  when  it  had  been  recovered.  He  confounds 
time,  place,  and  persons,  and  abounds  in  inaccuracies  and  ana- 
chronisms, to  the  distraction  of  his  readers,  the  perturbation  of 
his  critics,  and  the  serious  grief  of  his  admirers.  The  style  of 
this  first  part  of  Don  Quixote,  in  spite  of  occasional  passages  of 
beauty  which  are  among  the  models  of  the  Castilian  tongue,  is 
loose,  slovenly  and  inartistic. 

In  one  sense  Don  Quixote  is  indeed  a  satire ;  but  the  follies  it 
ridicules  are  those  common  to  all  humanity  and  to  every  age,  and 
the  satire  is  of  that  rare  kind  which  moves  not  to  depreciation  but 
to  love  and  pity  of  the  object  —  to  sympathy  rather  than  to  con- 
tempt, and  to  tears  as  well  as  laughter.  Don  Quixote  and  Sancho 
Panza  are  permanent  types  individualized.  They  are  as  true 


366  FICTION 

for  all  times  as  for  the  sixteenth  century  —  for  all  the  world  as 
for  Spain.  The  antithesis  of  the  pure  imagination  without  un- 
derstanding and  the  commonplace  good  sense  without  imagina- 
tion which  these  two  represent,  is  the  eternal  conflict  which  pos- 
sesses the  world.  The  secret  of  the  marvelous  success  of  Don 
Quixote,  of  the  extraordinary  popularity  which  makes  it  not 
only  the  great  book  of  Spain  but  a  book  for  all  mankind,  has  been 
aptly  described  by  Coleridg'e  to  lie  in  the  rare  combination  of 
the  permanent  with  the  individual  which  the  genius  of  the  au- 
thor has  been  enabled  to  achieve.  Don  Quixote  is  not  only  the 
perfect  man  of  imagination,  less  the  understanding,  but  he  is  a 
living  picture  of  the  Spanish  hidalgo  of  the  time  of  Philip  II. 
Sancho  is  the  ideal  commonplace  man  of  sense,  less  the  imagi- 
nation, and  also  the  pure  Manchegan  peasant.  In  the  carrying 
out  of  his  happy  conception,  Cervantes  was  doubtless  careless  of 
his  own  main  purpose,  so  that  this  burlesque  of  romance  has  be- 
come a  real  picture  of  life  —  this  caricature  of  chivalry  the  truest 
chivalric  model  —  this  life  of  a  fool  the  wisest  of  books." 

Boccaccio. —  He  was  born  at  Certaldo,  near  Florence,  in 
1313,  and  died  in  1375.  Like  Cervantes  in  relation  to  Span- 
ish literature,  Boccaccio  is  the  representative  Italian  novelist. 
He  left  works  on  history,  geology,  theology,  and  mythology, 
some  of  them  written  in  Latin.  His  commentaries  on  Dante, 
together  with  many  poems,  are  extant.  His  fame  as  a  writer 
rests  on  the  Decameron,  a  collection  of  one  hundred  stories. 

Criticism  by  F.  Hueffer. — "  In  the  chronological  enumeration 
of  our  author's  writings  we  now  come  to  his  most  important 
work,  the  Decameron,  a  collection  of  one  hundred  stories,  pub- 
lished in  their  combined  form  in  1353,  although  mostly  written-  at 
an  earlier  date.  This  work  marks  in  a  certain  sense  the  rise 
of  Italian  prose.  It  is  true  that  Dante's  Vita  Nuova  was  written 
before,  but  its  involved  sentences,  founded  essentially  on  Latin 
constructions,  cannot  be  compared  with  the  infinite  suppleness 
and  precision  of  Boccaccio's  prose.  The  Cento  Novelle  Antiche, 
on  the  other  hand,  which  also  precedes  the  Decameron  in  date, 
can  hardly  be  said  to  be  written  in  artistic  language  according 
to  definite  rules  of  grammar  and  style.  Boccaccio  for  the  first 


IN  ITALIAN  LITERATURE  367 

time  speaks  a  new  idiom,  flexible  and  tender,  like  the  character 
of  the  nations,  and  capable  of  rendering  all  the  shades  of  feel- 
ing, from  the  coarse  laugh  of  cynicism  to  the  sigh  of  hopeless 
love.  It  is  by  the  name  of  '  Father  of  Italian  Prose'  that  Boc- 
caccio ought  to  be  chiefly  remembered.  Like  most  progressive 
movements  in  art  and  literature,  Boccaccio's  remoulding  of  Italian 
prose  may  be  described  as  a  '  return  to  nature.'  It  is  indeed 
the  nature  of  the  Italian  people  itself  which  has  become  articulate 
in  the  Decameron;  here  we  find  southern  grace  and  elegance, 
together  with  that  unveiled  naivete  of  impulse  which  is  so  strik- 
ing and  so  amiable  a  quality  of  the  Italian  character.  The  un- 
desirable complement  of  the  last-mentioned  feature,  a  coarseness 
and  indecency  of  conception  and  expression  hardly  comprehensi- 
ble to  the  northern  mind,  also  appears  in  the  Decameron,  particu- 
larly where  the  life  and  conversation  of  the  lower  classes  are  the 
subject  of  the  story.  At  the  same  time,  these  descriptions  of 
low  life  are  so  admirable,  and  the  character  of  popular  parlance 
rendered  with  such  humor  as  often  to  make  the  frown  of  moral 
disgust  give  way  to  a  smile.  It  is  not  surprising  that  a  style 
so  concise  and  yet  so  pliable,  so  typical  and  yet  so  individual,  as 
that  of  Boccaccio,  was  of  enormous  influence  on  the  further 
progress  of  a  prose  in  a  manner  created  by  it.  This  influence 
has  indeed  prevailed  down  to  the  present  time,  to  an  extent  bene- 
ficial upon  the  whole,  although  frequently  fatal  to  the  develop- 
ment of  individual  writers.  Novelists  like,  Giovanni  Florentine 
or  Franco  Sacchetti  are  completely  under  the  sway  of  their  great 
model ;  and  Boccaccio's  influence  may  be  discerned  equally  in  the 
plastic  fulness  of  Machiavelli  and  in  the  pointed  satire  of  Areti- 
no.  Without  touching  upon  the  individual  merits  of  Lasca, 
Bandello,  and  other  novelists  of  the  cinquecento,  it  may  be  as- 
serted that  none  of  them  created  a  style  independent  of  their 
great  predecessor.  One  cannot  indeed  but  acquiesce  in  the  au- 
thoritative utterance  of  the  Academia  della  Crusca,  which  holds 
up  the  Decameron  as  the  standard  and  model  of  Italian  prose. 
Even  the  Delia  Cruscan  writers  themselves  have  been  unable  to 
deprive  the  language  wholly  of  the  fresh  spontaneity  of  Boccac- 
cio's manner,  which  in  modern  literature  we  again  admire  in 
Manzoni's  Promessi  sposi.  A  detailed  analysis  of  a  work  so 
well  known  as  the  Decameron  would  be  unnecessary.  The  de- 
scription of  the  plague  of  Florence  preceding  the  stories  is  uni 


368  FICTION 

versally  acknowledged  to  be  a  masterpiece  of  epic  grandeur  and 
vividness.  It  ranks  with  the  paintings  of  similar  calamities  by 
Thucydides,  Defoe  and  M-anzoni.  Like  Defoe,  Boccaccio  had 
to  draw  largely  upon  hearsay  and  his  own  imagination,  it  being 
almost  certain  that  in  1348  he  was  at  Naples,  and  therefore  no 
eye-witness  of  the  scenes  he  describes.  The  stories  themselves, 
a  hundred  in  number,  range  from  the  highest  pathos  to  the 
coarsest  licentiousness. 

Victor  Hugo. —  He  was  born  at  Besancon  in  1802,  and  died 
at  Paris  in  1885.  He  was  celebrated  both  as  a  poet  and  as 
the  leader  of  the  French  romantic  school.  He  wrote  a  num- 
ber of  tragedies  and  several  small  volumes  of  lyrics.  The 
number  of  his  works  in  prose  and  verse  would  make  a  small 
library.  Perhaps  the  best  known  outside  of  France  are  "  The 
Toilers  of  the  Sea-,"  and  "  Les  Miserables." 

Criticism  by  Rene  Doumic. — "  What  impresses  the  reader  of 
Victor  Hugo  is  the  poetic  quality  of  his  style.  This  quality  to- 
gether with  his  love  of  romance,  must  impress  the  critic  at  once. 
It  is  not  for  originality  or  for  vigor  of  thought  that  Victor  Hugo 
is  remarkable.  He  has  very  few  ideas,  and  he  relied  rather  on 
the  initiative  of  others  and  the  impulse  that  came  from  others. 
He  defines  his  soul  as  a  crystal  reflecting  the  variegated  colors  of 
the  world  —  a  shell  that  echoed  its  thousand  voices.  In  this  way 
he  vindicates  his  sincerity  amid  his  various  changes  of  opinion 
and  the  countless  inspirations  that  govern  his  soul.  His  ideas 
were  not  grand,  though  he  frequently  employs  the  grand  style. 
He  never  read  profoundly  in  the  book  of  nature ;  his  psychology 
skimmed  only  the  surface  of  truth.  What  was  truly  grand  in 
him  was  the  imagination  which  enlarged  and  distorted  every 
object;  throwing  all  things  out  of  plumb  and  just  proportion. 
Hence,  his  stories  are  filled  with  giants,  titans,  gods,  heroes,  mon- 
sters—  he  describes  these  with  unwonted  brilliance.  But  we 
do  not  find  real  men  and  women  in  his  books.  His  emotion  lacks 
the  note  of  sincerity  which  we  find  in  other  great  authors.  It 
is  in  his  literary  form  and  finish  that  Victor  Hugo  must  lay 
claim  to  all  his  superiority  as  a  writer.  In  this  respect  he 
stands  without  a  rival  among  his  countrymen.  The  only  modern 


IN  FRENCH  LITERATURE  369 

French  authors  who  approach  him  are  Balzac,  Renan  and 
Michelet.  Although  commonplace  in  his  ideas  and  wholly  in- 
capable of  analyzing  the  deeper  emotions  and  dramatic  play  of 
the  human  heart,  he  excels  in  description,  in  word-painting,  in 
evoking  grand  scenes  where  knight  and  hero  may  hold  their  most 
brilliant  tournament.  His  ideas  are  images,  he  thinks  in  pic- 
tures. As  an  example  of  his  style,  read  the  Battle  of  Waterloo, 
or  his  descriptions  of  Notre  Dame.  He  has  a  special  talent  for 
the  grand  narrative  wherein  the  details  are  expressive  and  strik- 
ing. Like  Macaulay,  he  is  famous  for  enumeration  and  striking 
antitheses.  He  also  possessed  the  keenest  sense  of  rhythm  and 
mastered  in  a  high  degree  the  art  of  versification.  Doubtless  time 
will  consign  the  greater  part  of  his  work  to  oblivion,  but  enough 
of  it  will  remain  to  secure  for  him  a  permanent  place  among  the 
great  poets  and  romanticists  of  his  age.  Among  authors  of  fic- 
tion his  name  will  live  with  Balzac,  Dumas,  Zola  and  Flaubert." 

Alexander  Dumas. —  He  was  born  at  Aisne,  in  France, 
1803;  died  at  Puys,  1870.  He  became  noted  as  an  author 
of  plays  and  novels.  Besides  these  he  published  a  number  of 
works  dealing  with  history  and  personal  reminiscence.  Of 
his  stones,  the  best  known  are  the  "  Count  of  Monte  Cristo  "  ; 
"  The  Mohicans  of  Paris  "  and  the  "  Three  Musketeers."  He 
shares  with  Hugo  the  glory  of  leading  the  romantic  movement 
in  France. 

Criticism  by  James  Farnsworth. — "  Dumas  is  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  characters  that  the  nineteenth  century  produced. 
His  life  was  filled  with  romance,  and  his  wildest  work  may  be 
said  to  be  only  a  reflection  of  his  personal  experience.  His  suc- 
cess in  founding  the  '  Review  of  the  World  '  tempted  him  into 
trying  his  skill  at  historical  romances.  The  influence  of  Walter 
Scott  is  plainly  visible  in  the  work  that  followed.  The  appear- 
ance of  Monte  Cristo  excited  universal  interest;  the  effect  was 
like  the  publication  of  Robinson  Crusoe  or  Waverly.  The  ex- 
traordinary color,  the  never-flagging  spirit,  the  endless  surprises, 
and  the  air  of  nature  which  was  cast  over  the  most  extravagant 
situations  make  this  work  worthy  of  the  popularity  it  enjoved 
in  almost  every  country  of  the  world.  The  vast  quantity  of  his 


FICTION 

work  interfered  with  it's  quality.  He  wrote  too  rapidly,  some- 
thing after  the  fashion  of  Lord  Byron,  and  paid  too  little  atten- 
tion to  recasting  and  revision.  In  this  respect  his  son,  '  Alex- 
andre  Fils,'  is  far  superior,  although  he  does  not  exhibit  the 
genius  of  his  father.  Owing  to  their  undue  expansion  and  in- 
terminable development  many  of  his  stories  h'ave  grown  decidedly 
unpopular.  Of  his  numerous  plays,  two  or  three  may  be  re- 
garded as  a  permanent  contribution  to  French  Comedy." 

0 

Walter  Scott. —  He  was  born  at  Edinburgh  in  1771,  and 
died  at  Abbotsford  in  1832.  He  is  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated novelists  in  English  literature,  famed  not  only  for  the 
amount,  but  also  for  the  quality  of  his  work.  Scott  divided 
his  labors  between  poetry  and  prose,  and  many  of  his  ballads 
are  familiar  to  every  English  household.  The  Waverly 
Novels  are  his  literary  masterpieces.  Scott  is  the  recognized 
leader  of  the  romantic  movement  in  England. 

Criticism  by  William  Henry  Sheran. —  Sir  Walter  Scott  occu- 
pies a  prominent  place  in  English  Fiction.  He  is  the  first,  and 
perhaps  the  greatest,  of  our  romantic  writers.  His  early  home 
was  in  the  Border  District,  renowned  for  its  traditions,  folk-lore, 
and  ballads,  all  harking  back  to  the  ages  of  chivalry  and  romance 
—  Cumberland  was  near  by,  and  the  Eildon  Hills  and  Edinburgh 
Castle.  In  his  veins  ran  the  blood  of  the  Border  chieftain.  From 
youth  his  memory  was  stored  with  wild  tales  of  what  those  Border 
chieftains  had  dared  and  done  —  their  quarrels  and  raids,  and 
feats  of  horsemanship.  At  his  mother's  knee,  and  in  the  library, 
he  collected  a  mass  of  material,  out  of  which  came  those  beautiful 
pictures  of  the  age  of  chivalry.  Unlike  Dickens,  4ie  gave  no 
attention  to  contemporary  manners  or  characters ;  he  lived  in  the 
past  with  the  knights  and  ladies,  on  the  cloth  of  gold.  He  sought 
the  romantic  element  in  English  and  Scotch  history;  crusaders 
and  pretenders  to  the  English  throne  engaged  his  talent;  for 
them  he  weaves  the  garment  of  medieval  glory;  he  gives  them 
spears  and  coats  of  mail,  and  richly  caparisoned  steeds,  and  bids 
them  joust  once  more,  or  die  in  the  Holy  Land,  fighting  against 
the  infidel.  His  historical  romances  are  occupied  with  the  cru- 


IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE  37  r 

sades,  whereas,  those  novels  which  are  less  romantic  in  character, 
have  to  do  with  queens  and  kings  of  Scotland  and  England. 
There  are  traces  of  the  influence  of  Shakespeare  in  the  work  of 
Scott;  for,  just  as  Shakespeare  based  his  historical  plays  on  the 
actual  record  of  the  English  kings,  allowing  his  imagination  free 
scope  at  the  same  time,  so  Walter  Scott  took  a  few  facts  from 
medieval  history  and  used  them  as  the  basis  of  an  imaginary 
wonderland.  Like  Shakespeare,  he  selected  material  which  of- 
fered the  finest  opportunity  for  plot  and  imaginative  treatment. 
But  here  the  comparison  closes,  for  while  Shakespeare's  imagina- 
tion was  in  the  highest  sense  creative,  that  of  Walter  Scott  could 
only  supply  a  fascinating  story  wherein  characters  with  shadowy 
outlines  are  introduced  for  the  sake  of  the  narrative.  These 
characters  compared  with  Hamlet  or  Lear,  are  like  splendid 
photographs  or  dissolving  views  compared  with  the  living 
reality.  Yet  how  many  have  been  delighted  with  those  dissolv- 
ing views  of  an  enchanting  period  which  historical  blasphenr 
has  called  the  "  Dark  Ages." 

Criticism  by  Alfred  Welsh. — "  The  vast  sums  which  Scott's 
prose  and  verse  won,  show  how  extensive  was  his  popularity. 
He  was  the  favorite  of  his  age,  read  over  the  whole  of  Europe. 
He  was  the  masterspirit  that  entered  over  the  wide  field  of  his- 
torical romance  and  gleaned  its  wealth  for  posterity.  Without 
writing  specifically  for  ethical  aims,  he  wrote  with  ethical  truth, 
and  is  full  charged  with  the  morality  of  the  future.  Apart  from 
their  historical  value,  which  is  great,  the  Waverly  series  cre- 
ated an  improved  taste  —  a  taste  for  good  sense  and  genuine 
feeling,  as  opposed  to  vapid  sentimentalism  and  romantic  ex- 
travagance. With  all  his  delight  in  Highland  chiefs  and  Border 
thieves,  he  has  a  true  brotherhood  with  men,  and  continually 
hints  some  tie  between  the  reader  and  the  vast  varieties  of  being, 
ever  with  an  eye  and  a  heart  to  — '  Make  channels  for  the 
streams  of  love  where  they  may  -broadly  run/  Doubtless,  with- 
out being  professedly  so,  he  wished  to  be  useful.  It  filled  his 
eyes  with  tears  to  be  told  that  he  was  doing  great  good  by  his 
attractive  and  noble  tales.  His  fundamental  honesty  and  his 
wide  humanity  would  form  an  a  priori  guarantee  that  his  works, 
on  the  whole,  should  contribute  to  the  amelioration  of  man  and 
society.  On  his  deathbed  it  consoled  him  that  he  had  not  com- 


FICTION 

promised  the  interests  of  virtue.  He  said  to  his  son-in-law: 
'  Lockhart,  I  may  have  but  a  minute  to  speak  to  you.  My  dear, 
be  a  good  man  —  be  virtuous,  be  religious  —  be  a  good  man. 
Nothing  else  will  give  you  comfort  when  you  come  to  lie  here.' '; 

Criticism  by  Richard  Hutton. — "  The  most  striking  feature 
of  Scott's  romances  is  that,  for  the  most  part,  they  are 
pivoted  on  public  rather  than  mere  private  interests  and  pas- 
sions. v  With  but  few  exceptions —  (The  Antiquary,  St.  Ronan's 
Well,  and  Guy  Mannering  are  the  most  important)  —  Scott's 
novels  give  us  an  imaginative  view,  not  of  mere  individuals,  but 
of  individuals  as  they  are  affected  by  the  public  strifes  and 
social  divisions  of  the  age.  And  this  it  is  which  gives  his  books 
so  large  an  interest  for  old  and  young,  soldiers  and  statesmen, 
the  world  of  society  and  the  recluse,  alike.  You  can  hardly 
read  any  novel  of  Scott's  and  not  become  better  aware  what 
public  life  and  political  issues  mean.  And  yet  there  is  no  arti- 
ficiality, no  elaborate  attitudinizing  before  the  antique  mirrors 
of  the  past,  like  Bulwer's,  no  dressing  out  of  clothes-horses  like 
G.  P.  R.  James.  The  boldness  and  the  freshness  of  the  present 
are  carried  back  into  the  past,  and  you  see  Papists  and  Puri- 
tans, Cavaliers  and  Roundheads,  Jews,  Jacobites,  and  Freeboot- 
ers, preachers,  schoolmasters,  mercenary  soldiers,  gipsies  and 
beggars,  all  living  the  sort  of  life  which  the  reader  feels  that  in 
their  circumstances  and  under  the  same  conditions  of  time  and 
place  and  parentage,  he.  might  have  lived  too.  Indeed,  no  man 
can  read  Scott  without  being  more  of  a  public  man,  whereas  the 
ordinary  novel  tends  to  make  its  readers  rather  less  of  one  than 
before.  Next,  though  most  of  these  stories  are  rightly  called 
romances,  no  one  can  avoid  observing  that  they  give  that  side 
of  life  which  is  unromantic,  quite  as  vigorously  as  the  romantic 
side.  This  was  not  true  of  Scott's  poems,  which  only  expressed 
one-half  of  his  nature,  and  were  almost  pure  romances.  But  in 
the  novels  the  business  of  life  is  even  better  portrayed  than  its 
sentiments.  Mr.  Bagehot,  one  of  the  ablest  of  Scott's  critics, 
has  pointed  out  this  admirably  in  his  essay  on  The  Waverly 
Novels.  '  Many  historical  novelists,'  he  says,  '  especially  those 
who  with  care  and  pains  have  read  up  the  detail,  are  often  evi- 
dently in  a  strait  how  to  pass  from  their  history  to  their  senti- 
ment. The  fancy  of  Sir  Walter  could  not  help  connecting  the 


IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

two.  If  he  had  given  us  the  English  side  of  the  race  to  Derby, 
he  would  have  described  the  Bank  of  England  paying  in  six- 
pences, and  also  the  loves  of  the  cashier.'  No  one  who  knows 
the  novels  well,  can  question  this.  Fergus  Maclvor's  ways  and 
means,  his  careful  arrangements  for  receiving  subsidies  in  black- 
mail, are  as  carefully  recorded  as  his  lavish  highland  hospitali- 
ties; and  when  he  sends  his  silver  cup  to  the  Gaelic  bard  who 
chaunts  his  greatness,  the  faithful  historian  does  not  forget  to 
let  us  know  that  the  cup  is  his  last,  and  that  he  is  hard-pressed 
for  the  generosities  of  the  future.  So,  too,  the  habitual  thievish- 
ness  of  the  highlanders  is  pressed  upon  us  quite  as  vividly  as 
their  gallantry  and  superstitions.  And  so  careful  is  Sir  Walter 
to  paint  the  petty  pedantries  of  the  Scotch  traditional  conser- 
vatism, that  he  will  not  spare  even  Charles  Edward  —  of  whom 
he  draws  so  graceful  a  picture  —  the  humiliation  of  submitting 
to  old  Bradwardine's  '  solemn  act  of  homage,'  but  makes  him 
go  through  the  absurd  ceremony  of  placing  his  foot  on  a  cushion 
to  have  its  brogue  unlatched  by  the  dry  old  enthusiast  of  her- 
aldic lore.  Indeed  it  wife  because  Scott  so  much  enjoyed  the 
contrast  between  the  high  sentiment  of  life  and  its  dry  and  often 
absurd  detail,  that  his  imagination  found  so  much  freer  a  vent 
in  the  historical  romance,  than  it  ever  found  in  the  romantic 
poem.  Yet  he  clearly  needed  the  romantic  excitement  of  pictur- 
esque scenes  and  historical  interests,  too.  I  do  not  think  he 
would  ever  have  gained  any  brilliant  success  in  the  narrow  region 
of  the  domestic  novel.  He  said,  himself,  in  expressing  his  ad- 
miration of  Miss  Austen,  '  The  big  bow-wow  strain  I  can  do 
myself,  like  any  now  going,  but  the  exquisite  touch  which  ren- 
ders ordinary  commonplace  things  and  characters  interesting, 
from  the  truth  of  the  description  and  the  sentiment,  is  denied 
to  me/  Indeed,  he  tried  it  to  some  extent  in  St.  Roman's  Well, 
and  so  far  as  he  tried  it,  I  think  he  failed.  Scott  needed  a  cer- 
tain largeness  of  type,  a  strongly-marked  class-life,  and,  where 
it  was  possible,  a  free,  out-of-doors  life,  for  his  delineations. 
No  one  could  paint  beggars  and  gipsies,  and  wandering  fiddlers, 
and  mercenary  soldiers,  and  peasants  and  farmers  and  lawyers, 
and  magistrates,  and  preachers,  and  courtiers,  and  statesmen, 
and  best  of  all  perhaps,  queens  and  kings  with  anything  like  his 
ability.  But  when  it  came  to  describing  the  small  differences 
of  manner,  differences  not  due  to>  external  habits,  so  much  as 


374 


DICTION 


to   internal   sentiment   or   education,   or   mere   domestic   circum- 
stance, he  was  beyond  his  proper  field. 

Charles  Dickens. —  He  was  born  near  Portsmouth,  England, 
in  1812;  died  at  Rochester,  in  1870.  A  portion  of  his 
youth  was  spent  in  newspaper  work;  afterward,  he  became 
a  contributor  to  various  magazines,  quickly  establishing  his 
unrivalled  fame  as  a  novelist.  His  name  is  a  household  word 
wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken.  The  most  popular 
of  his  novels  are  the  "  Pickwick  Papers,"  "  David  Copper- 
field,"  and  "  Old  Curiosity  Shop." 

Criticism  by  Adolphus  Ward. — "  Nature,  when  she  gifted 
Dickens  with  sensibility,  observation,  and  imagination,  had  be- 
stowed upon  him  yet  another  boon  in  the  quality  which  seems 
more  prominent  than  any  other  in  his  whole  being.  The  vigor 
of  Dickens  —  a  mental  and  moral  vigpr  supported  by  a  splen- 
did and  physical  organism  —  was  the  parent  of  some  of  his 
foibles ;  amongst  the  rest,  of  his  tendency  to  exaggeration.  No 
fault  has  been  more  frequently  found  with  his  workmanship 
than  this ;  nor  can  he  be  said  to  have  defended  himself  very 
successfully  on  this  head  when  he  declared  that  he  did  '  not 
recollect  ever  to  have  heard  or  seen  the  charge  of,  exaggeration 
made  against  a  feeble  performance,  though,  in  its  feebleness,  it 
may  have  been  most  untrue.'  But  without  this  vigor  he  could 
not  have  been  creative  as  he  was ;  and  in  him  there  were  ac- 
cordingly united  with  rare  completeness  a  swift  responsiveness 
to  the  impulses  of  humor  and  pathos,  an  inexhaustible  fertility  in 
discovering  and  inventing  materials  for  their  exercise,  and  the 
constant,  creative  desire  to  give  to  these  newly-created  materials 
a  vivid,  plastic  form.  And  the  mention  of  this  last-named  gift 
in  Dickens  suggests  the  query  whether,  finally,  there  is  anything 
in  his  manner  as  a  writer  which  may  prevent  the  continuance  of 
his  extraordinary  popularity.  No  writer  can  be  great  without 
a  manner  of  his  own ;  and  that  Dickens  had  such  a  manner  his 
most  supercilious  censurer  will  readily  allow.  His  terse  narra- 
tive power,  often  intensely  humorous  in  its  unblushing  and  un- 
winking gravity,  and  often  deeply  pathetic  in  its  simplicity,  is  as 


IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE  375 

characteristic  of  his  manner  as  is  the  supreme  felicity  of  his 
phrase,  in  which  he  has  no  equal.  But  no  distaste  for  his  man- 
nerisms is  likely  to  obscure  the  sense  of  his  achievements  in  the 
branch  of  literature  to  which  he  devoted  the  full  powers  of  his 
genius  and  the  best  energies  of  his  nature.  He  introduced,  in- 
deed, no  new  species  of  prose  fiction  into  our  literature.  In  the 
historical  novel  he  made  two  far  from  unsuccessful  essays,  in 
the  earlier  of  which  in  particular  —  Barnaby  Rudge  —  he  showed 
a  laudable  desire  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  a  past  age;  but  he 
was  without  the  reading  or  the  patience  of  either  the  author 
of  Waverly  or  the  author  of  The  Virginians,  and  without  the 
fine  historic  enthusiasm  which  animates  the  broader  workman- 
ship of  Westward  Ho.  For  the  purely  imaginative  romance, 
on  the  other  hand,  of  which  in  some  of  his  works  Lord  Lytton 
was  the  most  prominent  representative  in  contemporary  Eng- 
lish literature,  Dickens'  genius  was  not  without  certain  affini- 
ties ;  but,  to  feel  his  full  strength,  he  needed  to  touch  the  earth 
with  his  feet.  Thus  it  is  no  mere  phrase  to  say  of  him  that 
he  found  the  ideal  in  the  real,  and  drew  'his  inspirations  from 
the  world  around  him." 

Criticism  by  Beresford  Chancellor. — "  We  are  somewhat 
tenacious  of  applying  the  epithet  of  '  novelist '  to  the  author  of 
'  Pickwick/  however,  for  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word  he  was 
not  a  novelist.  '  He  was  a  poor  story-teller  —  he  was  not  a 
great  plotter/  says  Mr.  Lang;  and  this  is  only  too  apparent  in 
most  of  the  work  he  did,  in  '  Martin  Chuzzlewit '  no  less  than 
in  '  Pickwick.'  '  Our  Mutual  Friend  '  and  '  Great  Expectations  ' 
show,  indeed,  an  effort  not  wholly  unsuccessful  to  combine  in- 
tricacy of  plot  with  their  author's  peculiar  genius  for  character 
sketching;  but  particularly  in  Dickens'  earlier  work,  all  such 
attempts  are  sadly  to  seek.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  small 
tale  he  wrote  in  collaboration  with  Wilkie  Collins  has  more  claim 
to  be  considered  in  the  light  of  a  novel,  according  to  strict  rules, 
than  any  of  the  larger  works  which  emanated  from  his  pen 
alone;  for_no_greater  English  master  of  plot  and  soisatipn  has 
lived_  jthaiL  the  author  of  *  The  Moonstone?  But  Dickens  has 
been  accused  of  other  delinquencies  besides  that  of  being  de- 
fective in  the  more  important  attributes  of  the  novelist  proper. 
He  is  called  vulgar;  he  is  said  never  to  have  succeeded  in  draw- 


376  FICTION 

ing  a  lady  or  a  gentleman ;  he  is  attacked  for  want  of  true  pathos, 
of  being,  in  other  words,  a  maudlin  sentimentalist.  Nowadays, 
it  seems  to  have  become  an  accepted  proposition,  that  anything 
to  do  with  the  lowest  classes  is  necessarily  vulgar,  for  which 
reason  '  Oliver  Twist '  is  attacked  on  this  head  with  more  as- 
perity than  '  David  Copperfield/  or  '  Bleak  House.'  Nothing 
is  so  absurd.  Vulgarity,  using  the  word  in  its  more  extended 
significance,  has  its  home  almost  entirely  among  the  middle 
classes,  more  particularly  the  higher  middle  class,  and  often 
among  those  of  a  still  more  elevated  standing.  To  pretend  to 
be  what  one  is  not,  to  ape  one's  betters,  to  be  ashamed  of  one's 
poorer  relations,  in  short  all  the  forms  of  snobbery  which  are 
nowadays  so  rampant,  really  form  a  vulgarity  of  the  worst  and 
most  virulent  type.  Now  there  is  no  instance  on  record  of  a 
writer  of  fiction  who  set  himself  more  sturdily  to  show  up  the 
falsity  and  baseness  of  such  conduct,  with  the  exception  of 
Thackeray,  than  Dickens.  It  is,  therefore,  absurd  to  accuse  him 
of  harboring  what  he  tried  to  destroy.  Throughout  the  mas- 
ter's works,  we  see  the  same  hatred  of  sham  and  cant,  the  same 
pity  for  poverty  and  oppression,  the  same  noble  endeavor  to  do 
his  Utmost  to  lighten  the  burdens  of  the  poor  by  making  them  a 
bye-word  and  a  scandal.  '  Un  honnete  homme  que  la  vue  des 
iniquites  humaines  faisait  bondir,'  as  a  writer  in  the  Figaro  (of 
April,  1886),  once  described  him.  In  the  man  himself  what 
we  find  of  kindly  generosity,  of  large-heartedness,  of  tender 
sympathy,  of  joyous  good-humor,  of  inexhaustible  fun  and  un- 
ostentatious simplicity,  is  recorded  by  those  who  knew  him  best 
and  loved  him  most.  Sala  and  James  Payne,  Rimmer  and  Ward, 
Langton  and  Dolby,  have  all  told  us  how  the  more  intimate  the 
association,  the  more  lovable  he  became;  and  Thackeray  has 
paid  to  him  in  the  '  Four  Georges  '  one  of  the  noblest  tributes 
which  a  writer  can  pay  to  a  brother  author  who  is  being  set  in 
continual  opposition  to  him.  But,  above  all,  it  is  in  Forster's 
'  Life,'  and  in  Dickens'  own  letters  and  speeches,  that  the  true 
features  of  the  man  are  best  revealed.  With  less  sterling  quali- 
ties, few  men  could  have  come  through  the  ordeal  of  applause 
and  adulation  which  left  Dickens  unsullied.  Like  all  pre-emi- 
nent men,  he  was  self-made;  but  equally  like  every  true  leader, 
he  was  by  birth  and  nature  a  gentleman.  He  was  not  a  snob  as 
Thackeray_was^  since  he  was  not  always  imagining  himself  one. 


IN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

He  was  florid  in  his  tastes,  and  sometimes  flashy  in  his  dress, 
as  he  often  was  in  his  style ;  but  it  was  the  period  in  which  much 
jewelry  and  obtrusive  cravats  were  in  vogue,  in  literature  as 
well  as  in  social  life.  But  everything  in  his  outward  appear- 
ance became,  we  are  told,  subservient  to  the  power  of  his  eyes. 
'  Eyes/  says  one  who  knew  him,  '  of  the  bluest  blue ;  eyes  which 
danced  and  sparkled  with  sunniest  merriment  and  yet  which 
quickly  softened  into  serious  sympathy ;  eyes  which  were  bril- 
liant and  searching,  and  seemed  always  to  be  kindly,  though 
keenly,  reading  the  person  to  whom  he  was  talking,  yet  which 
never  hardened  into  sternness ;  eyes  in  which  especially  you  could 
discern  all  the  humanity  and  humour,  the  noble  intellectual  possi- 
bilities and  the  manly  tenderness  of  their  possessor.' ' 

George  Eliot. —  She  was  born  in  Warwickshire,  England, 
in  1819,  and  died  in  London  in  1880  —  a  woman  of  remark- 
able gifts  and  extraordinary  achievements.  As  a  scholar  and 
writer  she  has  few  equals  in  our  literature.  Some  critics  re- 
gard her  as  our  greatest  novelist.  Her  literary  work  consists 
of  poems,  translations,  essays,  reviews  and  novels.  For  some 
time  she  was  assistant  editor  of  the  Westminster  Review.  In 
fiction  her  best  known  books  are  '  The  Mill  on  The  Floss/ 
'  Romola/  and  '  Adam  Bede.' 

Criticism  by  Richard  Holt  Hutton. — "  What  is  remarkable  in 
George  Eliot  is  the  striking  combination  in  her  of  very  deep 
speculative  power  with  a  very  great  and  realistic  imagination.  It 
is  rare  to  find  an  intellect  so  skilled  in  the  analysis  of  the  deepest 
psychological  problems,  so  completely  at  home  in  the  conception 
and  delineation  of  real  characters.  George  Eliot  discusses  the 
practical  influences  acting  in  men  and  women,  I  do  not  say  with 
the  ease  of  Fielding  —  for  there  is  a  touch  of  carefulness,  often  of 
over-carefulness  in  all  she  does, —  but  with  much  of  his  breadth 
and  spaciousness, —  the  breadth  and  spaciousness,  one  must  re- 
member, of  a  man  who  had  seen  London  life  in  the  capacity  of  a 
London  police  magistrate.  Nay,  her  imagination  has,  I  do  not 
say  of  course  the  fertility,  but  something  of  the  range  and  the 
delight  in  rich  historic  colouring,  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's,  while 
it  combines  with  it  something  too  of  the  pleasure  in  ordered 


378  FICTION 

learning,  and  the  laborious  marshalling  of  the  picturesque  re- 
sults of  learning, —  though  her  learning  is  usually  in  a  very 
different  field, —  which  gives  the  flavor  of  scholastic  pride  to  the 
great  genius  of  Milton.  Not  that  I  think  George  Eliot's  fine 
verse  entitles  her  to  be  described  as  a  poet,  though  the  poetic 
side  of  her  mind  has  been  deep  enough  and  true  enough  to  lend 
richness,  depth,  and  harmony  to  her  romances.  I  am  only 
pointing  out  now  how  much  she  is  besides  a  novelist, —  how  in- 
evitable it  was  that  in  her  novels  she  should  range  far  beyond 
the  region  of  the  most  successful  novelist  of  recent  times, — far 
beyond  that  little  world  of  English  society  which  has  determined 
for  novelists  of  the  most  different  type  of  genius, — for  Miss 
Austen,  for  Mrs.  Gaskell,  for  Mr.  Trollope,  for  Thackeray,  and 
for  many  less  successful,  but  still  very  successful  contemporaries, 
—  their  peculiar  field  of  work.  It  is,  indeed,  a  great  help  towards 
understanding  her  true  genius  to  compare  George  Eliot  with 
the  school  of  society-novelists  of  whom  I  have  spoken.  What 
one  remarks  about  the  works  of  those  who  have  studied  any 
particular  society  as  a  whole  far  more  deeply  than  they  have 
studied  the  individual  characters  in  it,  is  that  their  creations  all 
stand  on  one  level,  are  delineated,  with  great  accuracy,  down 
to  the  same  not  very  considerable  depth,  and  no  further;  that 
all,  in  short,  are  bas-reliefs  cut  out  on  the  same  surface.  The 
novelists  of  this  school  are  perfectly  inexhaustible  in  resource  on 
the  special  social  ground  they  choose,  and  quite  incapable  of 
varying  it.  And  all  of  them  disappoint  us  in  not  giving  more 
insight  into  those  deeper  roots  of  character  which  lie  beneath 
the  social  surface.  George  Eliot  as  a  novelist  has  points  of 
connection  with  both  of  these  schools  of  art,  besides  some  char- 
acteristics peculiarly  her  own.  There  is  the  same  flowing  ease 
of  manner,  clearness  of  drawing,  delicacy  of  finish,  and  absence 
of  excitement,  which  characterize  the  modern  semi-satirical 
school.  But  there  is  less  of  play  in  the  surface-painting, —  more 
of  depth  in  the  deeper  characters  imagined, —  a  broader  touch,  a 
stronger,  direct  fashion  of  delineation, —  less  of  manner-paint- 
ings, and  more  of  the  bare  naturalism  of  human  life.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  is  nothing  of  the  Rembrandt-like  style  of  Miss 
Bronte :  the  light  flows  more  equally  over  George  Eliot's  pic- 
tures;  one  finds  nothing  of  the  irregular  emphasis  with  which 
Cnrrer  Bell's  characters  are  drawn,  or  of  the  strong  subjective 


/AT  E,V(,7./.S7/  LITERATURE  379 

colouring  which  tinges  all  her  scenes.  George  Eliot's  imagina- 
tion, like  Miss  Bronte's,  loves  to  go  to  the  roots  of  character, 
and  portrays  best  by  broad,  direct  strokes;  but  there  the  like- 
ness between  them,  so  far  as  there  is  any,  ends.  The  reasons 
for  the  deeper  method  and  for  the  directer  style  are  hardly  likely 
to  have  been  similar  in  the  two  cases.  Miss  Bronte  can  scarcely 
be  said  to  have  had  any  large,  instinctive  knowledge  of  human 
nature :  —  her  own  life  and  thoughts  were  exceptional,  cast  in 
a  strongly  marked  but  not  very  wide  mould ;  her  imagination 
was  solitary ;  her  experience  was  very  limited ;  and  her  own  per- 
sonality tinged  all  she  wrote.  She  '  made  out '  the  outward  life 
and  manner  of  her  dramatis  personal  by  the  sheer  force  of  her 
own  imagination;  and  as  she  always  imagined  the  will  and  the 
affections  as  the  substance  and  center  of  her  characters,  those  of 
her  delineations  which  are  successful  at  all  are  deep,  and'-their 
manner  broad.  George  Eliot's  genius  is  exceedingly  different. 
Her  genial,  broad  delineations  of  human  life  have,  as  I  said  just 
now,  more  perhaps  of  the  breadth  of  Fielding  than  of  any  of 
the  manners-painters  of  the  present  day.  For  these  imagine 
life  only  as  it  appears  in  a  certain  dress  and  sphere,  which  are 
a  kind  of  artificial  medium  for  their  art, —  life  as  affected  by 
drawing-rooms.  George  Eliot  has  little,  if  any,  of  their  capacity 
for  catching  the  under-tones  and  allusive  complexity  of  this  sort 
of  society.  She  has,  however,  observed  the  phases  of  a  more 
natural  and  straightforward  class  of  life,  and  she  draws  her 
external  world  as  much  as  possible  from  observation  —  though 
some  of  her  Florentine  pictures  must  have  been  suggested  more 
by  literary  study  than  by  personal  experience  —  instead  of  imag- 
ining it,  like  Miss  Bronte,  out  of  the  heart  of  the  characters 
she  wishes  to  paint.  The  English  manners  she  delights  in,  are 
chiefly  of  the  simplest  and  most  homely  kind, —  of  the  rural 
farmers  and  laborers, —  of  the  half-educated  portion  of  the  coun- 
try middle-class,  who  have  learnt  no  educated  reticence, —  and 
of  the  resident  country  gentry  and  clergy  in  their  relations  with 
these  rough-mannered  neighbors.  This  is  a  world  in  which  she 
could  not  but  learn  a  direct  style  of  treatment.  The  habit  of 
concealing,  or  at  most,  of  suggesting  rather  than  downright  ex- 
pressing, what  is  closest  to  our  hearts,  is,  as  we  know,  a  result 
of  education.  It  is  quite  foreign  to  the  class  of  people  whom 
George  Eliot  knows  most  thoroughly,  and  has  drawn  with  the 


3g0  FICTION 

fullest  power.  All  her  deepest  knowledge  of  human  nature  has 
probably  been  acquired  among  people  who  speak  their  thoughts 
with  the  directness,  though  not  with  the  sharp  metallic  ring,  of 
Miss  Bronte's  Yorkshire  heroes.  But  instead  of  almost  luxuriat- 
ing, as  Miss  Bronte  appears  to  do,  in  the  startling  emphasis  of 
this  mannerism,  and  making  all  her  characters  precipitate  them- 
selves in  speech  in  the  way  best  calculated  to  give  a  strongly- 
marked  picture  of  the  conception  in  her  own  brain, —  George 
Eliot  has  evidently  delighted  to  note  all  the  varieties  of  form 
which  varying  circumstances  give  to  these  direct  and  simple 
manners,  and  takes  as  much  pleasure  in  painting  their  different 
shades  as  Miss  Austen  does  in  guiding  her  more  elaborate  con- 
versations to  and  fro  so  as  to»  elicit  traits  of  personal  character. 
Directness  of  delineation  is,  indeed,  evidently  natural  to  the 
author  of  '  Adam  Bede,'  but  it  has  no  tendency  whatever  to  take, 
with  her,  that  form  of  concentrated  intensity  which  is  assumed 
in  Miss  Bronte :  her  style  has  all  the  general  composure  and 
range  of  tone  of  the  life  she  paints,  and  shows  her  as  much  in 
sympathy  with  the  dumb  and  stolid  phases  of  rural  society  as 
with  its  more  active  forms.  There  was  something  of  the  poet  in 
both.  But  George  Eliot's  poetry  is  rooted  in  the  more  intellec- 
tual emotions,  Miss  Bronte's  was  in  the  most  personal.  George 
Eliot's  poetic  tendencies  are  rather  of  the  kind  to  soften  out- 
lines and  harmonize  the  effects  of  her  pictures.  Miss  Bronte's, 
on  the  other  hand,  were  adapted  to  express  the  passion  of  her 
own  imagination;  and  while  the  effect  was  graphic  and  unique, 
it  was  monotonous,  and  not  unfrequently,  unreal.  George  Eliot, 
with  a  faith  like  that  of  her  own  '  Dinah,'  would,  to  my  mind, 
be  one  of  the  greatest  intellectual  personages  the  world  had  ever 
seen.  Her  imagination  would  gain  that  vivacity  and  spring  the 
absence  of  which  is  its  only  artistic  defect;  her  noble,  ethical 
conceptions  would  win  certainty  and  grandeur;  her  singularly 
just  and  impartial  judgment  would  lose  the  tinge*  of  gloom 
which  now  seems  always  to  pervade  it;  and  her  poetic  feelings 
would  be  no  longer  weighed  down  by  the  superincumbent  mass 
of  a  body  of  sceptical  thought  with  which  they  struggle  for  the 
mastery  in  vain.  Few  minds  at  once  so  speculative  and  so  cre- 
ative, have  ever  put  their  mark  on  literature.  If  she  cannot 
paint  the  glow  of  human  enterprise  like  Scott,  or  sketch  with 
the  easy  rapidity  of  Fielding,  she  can  do  what  neither  of  them 


'/•//.  \CKKRAY  381 

could  do  —  see  and  explain  the  relation  of  the  hroadest  and 
commonest  life  to  the  deepest  spring  of  philosophy  and  science. 
With  a  quicker  pulse  of  life,  with  a  richer,  happier  faith,  I 
hardly  see  the  limit  to  her  power." 

Thackeray.— He  was  born  at  Calcutta  in  1811,  and  died  at 
London  in  1863.  After  finishing  his  education  at  Cambridge 
he  devoted  himself  seriously  to  literature,  and  became  one 
of  England's  greatest  novelists.  His  best  known  works  are 
/  \uiity  Fair,  Pendennis  and  The  Newcomcs. 

Criticism  by  Thomas  Shaw. — "  Of  his  works  as  a  whole  it 
may  be  said  that  they  are  full  of  humor  and  irony,  the  moral 
purpose  of.  the  writer  not  so  clearly  evident,  but  yet  present  in 
them  all.  Social  foibles,  individual  weaknesses,  the  lesser  sins 
of  society,  are  all  shown  up  and  treated  with  quiet  satire.  Most 
of  his  smaller  writings  are  collected  in  the  four  volumes  of  Mis- 
cellanies published  in  1857.  Here  appears  the  poetry  of  Thack- 
eray. It  has  been  well  said,  '  Thackeray  was  not  essentially 
poetic ;  that  is,  he  did  not  look  at  everything  through  the  medium 
of  the  poetic  faculty;  his  thoughts  and  imaginings  were  not  al- 
ways governed  by  a  poetic  law.  He  concealed  what  was  poetic 
in  his  nature.  He  is  half  ashamed  of  the  sentiment  which  must 
have  expression.  The  characters  he  loves  best  are  the  charac- 
ters where  emotion  and  affection  hold  their  sway,  and  he  cannot 
keep  telling  you  so,  as  he  writes,  but  he  does  it  with  a  sort  of 
bashful  reticence.  He  was  thoroughly  English  in  the  structure 
of  his  mind.  He  could  have  wept  as  well  as  a  native  of  South- 
ern Europe,  and  sometimes  the  eye  is  moist,  but  the  old  Gothic 
spirit  despises  a  man  in  tears ;  and  so  he  stands  proudly  up  in 
self-reliance  and  a  generous  manliness.  The  poetry  of  his  nature 
was  something  he  ever  kept  in  the  recess  of  his  soul.  It  gave  a 
tenderness  to  his  rebuke,  it  shed  a  beauty  on  his  conceptions ; 
and  as  his  countenance  was  lit  with  an  expression  of  almost 
womanly  tenderness,  so  his  writing  is  pervaded  with  a  gentle 
and  loving  pathos. 

Hawthorne. —  He  was  born  in  Massachusetts  July  4,  1804; 
died  at  Plymouth,  N.  H.,  in  1864.  After  graduating  at 


382  %  FICTION 

Bowdoin  College,  he  served  some  years  as  a  State  official,  his 
last  public  appointment  being  United  States  consul  at  Liver- 
pool. He  is  the  most  celebrated  among  American  novelists. 
His  best  stories  are  The  Scarlet  Letter,  House  of  Seven 
Gables,  and  The  Marble  Faun. 

Criticism  by  Henry  Tuckerman. — "  Hawthorne  is  distin- 
guished for  the  finish  of  his  style,  and  the  delicacy  of  his  psy~ 
chological  insight.  He  combines  the  metaphysical  talent  of 
Brown  with  the  refined  diction  of  Irving.  For  a  period  of  more 
than  twenty  years  he  contributed,  at  intervals,  to  annuals  and 
magazines,  the  most  exquisite  fancy  sketches  and  historical  nar- 
ratives, the  merit  of  which  was  scarcely  recognized  by  the  public 
at  large,  although  cordially  praised  by  the  discriminating  few. 
These  papers  have  been  recently  collected  under  the  title  of 
Twice-told  Tales,  and  Mosses  from  an  Old  Manse;  and,  seen 
by  the  light  of  the  author's  present  reputation,  their  grace,  wis- 
dom, and  originality  are  now  generally  acknowledged.  But  it  is 
through  the  two  romances  entitled  The  Scarlet  Letter,  and  The 
House  of  the  Seven  Gables,  that  Hawthorne's  eminence  has  been 
reached.  They  are  remarkable  at  once  for  a  highly  finished  and 
beautiful  style,  the  most  charming  artistic  skill,  and  intense  char- 
acterization. To  these  intrinsic  and  universal  claims,  they  add 
that  of  native  scenes  and  subjects.  Imagine  such  an  anatomizer 
of  the  human  heart  as  Balzac,  transported  to  a  provincial  town 
of  New  England,  and  giving  to  its  houses,  streets,  and  history 
the  analytical  power  of  his  genius,  and  we  realize  the  triumph 
of  Hawthorne.  Bravely  adopting  familiar  materials,  he  has 
thrown  over  them  the  light  and  shadow  of  his  thoughtful  mind, 
eliciting  a  deep  significance  and  a  prolific  beauty ;  if  we  may 
use  the  expression,  he  is  ideally  true  to  the  real.  His  invention 
is  felicitous,  his  tone  magnetic ;  his  sphere  borders  on  the  super- 
natural, and  yet  a  chaste  expression  and  a  refined  sentiment 
interlie  his  most  earnest  utterance ;  he  is  more  suggestive  than 
dramatic.  The  early  history  of  New  England  has  found  no 
such  genial  and  vivid  illustration  as  his  pages  afford.  At  all 
points  his  genius  touches  the  interests  of  human  life;  now  over- 
flowing with  a  love  of  external  nature  as  gentle  as  that  of 
Thomson,  now  intent  upon  the  quaint  or  characteristic  in  life 


HAWTHORNE 

with  humor  as  zestful  as  that  of  Lamb,  now  developing  the 
horrible  or  pathetic  with  something  of  John  Webster's  dramatic 
terror,  and  again  buoyant  with  a  fantasy  as  aerial  as  Shelley's 
conceptions.  And,  in  each  instance,  the  staple  of  charming  in- 
vention is  adorned  with  the  purest  graces  of  style.  Hawthorne 
died  with  the  pure  and  permanent  fame  of  genius,  having  em- 
balmed the  experience  he  enjoyed  in  Italy  and  England  in  the 
romances  of  The  Marble  Faun  and  Our  Old  Home.  What  we 
admire  in  this  writer's  genius  is  his  felicity  in  the  use  of  com- 
mon materials.  It  is  very  difficult  to  give  an  imaginative  scope 
to  a  scene  or  a  topic  which  familiarity  has  robbed  of  illusion.  It 
is  by  the  association  of  ideas,  by  the  halo  of  remembrance  and 
the  magic  of  love,  that  an  object  usually  presents  itself  to  the 
mind  under  fanciful  relations.  From  a  foreign  country  our  na- 
tive spot  becomes  picturesque ;  and  from  the  hill  of  manhood 
the  valley  of  youth  appears  romantic;  but  that  is  a  peculiar  and 
rare  mental  alchemy  which  can  transmute  the  dross  of  the  com- 
mon and  the  immediate  into  gold.  Yet  so  does  Hawthorne. 
His  Old  Apple  Dealer  yet  sits  by  the  Old  South  Church,  and  the 
IVilley  House  is  inscribed  every  summer-day  by  the  penknives 
of  ambitious  cits.  He  is  able  to  illustrate,  by  his  rich  invention 
places  and  themes  that  are  before  our  very  eyes  and  in  our  daily 
speech.  His  fancy  is  as  free  of  wing  at  the  north  end  of  Boston, 
or  on  Salem  turn-pike,  as  that  of  other  poets  in  the  Vale  of  Cash- 
mere or  amid  the  Isles  of  Greece.  He  does  not  seem  to  feel  the 
necessity  of  distance,  either  of  time  or  space,  to  realize  his 
enchantments.  He  has  succeeded  in  attaching  an  ethereal  inter- 
est to  home  subjects,  which  is  no  small  triumph.  Somewhat  of 
that  poetic  charm  which  Wilson  has  thrown  over  Scottish  life 
in  his  Lights  and  Shadows,  and  Irving  over  English  in  his 
Sketch-Book,  and  Lamb  over  Metropolitan  in  his  Elia,  has  Haw- 
thorne cast  around  New  England,  and  his  tales  here  and  there 
blend,  as  it  were,  with  traits  which  endear  these  authors.  His 
best  efforts  are  those  in  which  the  human  predominates.  Inge- 
nuity and  moral  significancy  are  finely  displayed,  it  is  true,  in 
his  allegories:  but  sometimes  they  are  coldly  fanciful,  and  do  not 
win  the  sympathies  as  in  those  instances  where  the  play  of  the 
heart  relieves  the  dim  workings  of  the  abstract  and  supernatural. 
Hawthorne,  like  all  individualities,  must  be  read  in  the  appro- 
priate mood.  This  secret  of  appreciation  is  now  understood,  as 


FICTION 

regards  Wordsworth.  It  is  due  to  all  genuine  authors.  To 
many,  whose  mental  aliment  has  been  exciting  and  coarse,  the 
delicacy,  meek  beauties,  and  calm  spirit  of  these  writings  will 
but  gradually  unfold  themselves;  but  those  capable  of  placing 
themselves  in  relation  with  Hawthorne,  will  discover  a  native 
genius  for  which  to  be  grateful  and  proud,  and  a  brother  whom 
to  know  is  to  love.  He  certainly  has  done  much  to  obviate  the 
reproach  which  a  philosophical  writer,  not  without  reason,  has 
cast  upon  our  authors,  when  he  asserts  their  objec.t  to  be  to  as- 
tonish rather  than  please." 

Stevenson. —  He  was  born  at  Edinburgh  in  1850,  and  died 
in  1894.  He  received  his  education  at  the  University  of 
Edinburgh;  was  called  to  the  bar,  but  never  practiced  law, 
devoting  the  whole  of  his  life  to  literature.  He  is  one  of 
the  great_styji_sts  ^n_oux_Jjinguage, Lj;anking  with  Hume  and 
Macaulay. 

Criticism  by  William  H.  Sheran. —  Mr.  Stevenson  enjoys  the 
reputation  of  being  the  modern  representative  of  the  romantic 
school  of  fiction.  There  are  others  of  high  repute,  for  roman- 
ticism is  now  the  vogue,  but  there  is  hardly  any  other  whose 
name  we  would  care  to  link  with  that  of  Walter  Scott.  In  many 
respects  Mr.  Stevenson  resembles  Sir  Walter;  there  is  the  same 
charm  of  personality,  the  same  large-heartedness  and  nobility  of 
soul,  the  same  struggle  with  the  unkind  fate  which  in  the  one 
took  the  form  of  bankruptcy,  and  in  the  other,  that  of  the  great 
white  plague.  Like  Scott,  he  loved  adventure,  romance,  the 
'  call  of  the  wild  '  in  man  and  in  nature.  There  was  in  him  a 
combination  of  literary  and  story-telling  charm,  the  former  re- 
sulting from  a  long  and  severe  apprenticeship.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  but  that  Stevenson  labored  many  years  to  acquire  that 
charming  style,  which,  so  far  as  style  goes,  must  rank  him  above 
Scott ;  for  the  latter  wrote  too  much  and  too  hurriedly  to  give 
minute  attention  to  forms  of  expression  and  nicely  adjusted  word- 
combinations  —  such  as  we  discover  in  Stevenson.  It  has  been 
objected  that  the  style  of  Stevenson  is  a  little  deficient  in  natural- 
ness, a  trifle  over-wrought ;  critics  detect  here  and  there  the 
artificial  note.  Yet  it  is  the  style  which  captivates  the  reader, 


STEVENSON  385 

and  gives  to  his  writings  a  claim  to  immortality.  But  the  claim 
rests  upon  other  ground  as  well,  for  Stevenson  had  the  true 
genius  for  story-telling.  The  reader  of  '  Treasure  Island '  or 
*  The  Suicide  Club,'  or  '  John  Silver '  cannot  escape  the  con- 
viction that  the  author  is  a  master  in  the  art  of  weaving  plot,  and 
of  holding  the  attention  as  if  by  spell  or  magic.  The  magic  wand 
of  Prospero  seems  to  have  been  recovered  by  him,  and,  as  he 
waves  it  over  remote  scenes  and  ages,  all  the  burial  places  of 
romance  give  up  their  dead.  His  life  was  shortened  by  disease 
—  the  fate  of  many  a  literary  genius,  or  he  might  have  made  a 
still  stronger  claim  to  universal  recognition,  but  like  Keats  or 
Shelley,  he  has  left  ample  proof  of  his  genius. 

Other  Famous  Writers. —  The  writers  of  fiction  are  legion, 
and  all  those  who  deserve  special  mention  are  so  numerous 
that  it  is  quite  impossible  to  give  them  space  in  this  manual. 
Writers  like  Mrs.  Humphrey  Ward,  Sudermann,  Tolstoi, 
William  Dean  Howells,  Henry  James,  James  Lane  Allen  and 
a  host  of  others  come  to  mind  at  once.  But  those  mentioned 
and  criticised  may  be  taken  as  representatives  of  what  fiction 
is  at  its  best;  they  are  names  long  identified  with  the  highest 
and  best  that  has  been  produced  in  this  department  of  liter- 
ary art.  The  following  estimate  of  the  value  of  fiction  from 
the  pen  of  one  of  our  most  accomplished  critics  and  men  of 
culture  may  fittingly  close  an  extended  analysis  and  study  of 
the  subject. 

General  Criticism  by  Hamilton  Wright  Mabie. — "  Fiction, 
as  a  literary  form,  has  steadily  advanced  in  importance  as  the 
social  idea  has  gained  in  clearness  and  control ;  has  steadily  deep- 
ened and  broadened  as  the  sense  of  social  obligation  and  the 
feeling  of  social  sympathy  have  deepened  and  broadened.  '  Sir 
Charles  Grandison  '  and  '  Pamela '  have  a  lessened  interest  for  a 
generation  who  have  known  what  life  meant  to  '  Adam  Bede  ' 
and  '  Anna  Karenina ; '  but  the  difference  between  the  earlier 
and  later  novelists  is  not  so  great  as  the  difference  between  our 
ancestors  and  ourselves.  We  no  longer  weep  over  the  misfor- 
tunes of  romantic  gentlemen  and  the  misery  of  lovelorn  ladies 


386  FICTION 

of  high  degree;  life  has  become  so  earnest,  through  our  new 
consciousness  of  the  community  of  suffering  among  all  men, 
that  we  are  no  longer  touched  by  the  old  conventional  devices 
of  the  novelists.  The  great  novels  of  today  are  so  pervaded  by 
life,  so  profoundly  vitalized  by  genuine  insight  and  sympathy, 
that  they  often  seem  more  real  to  us  than  the  experiences  through 
which  we  actually  pass.  We  accept  nothing  as  art  which  does 
not  first  convince  us  of  its  reality  as  life.  It  would  be  easy 
and  profitable  to  point  out  the  individual  contributions  of  the 
great  novelists  to  the  science  which  concerns  itself  with  men 
in  their  social  relations ;  but  it  must  suffice  to  emphasize  the  sig- 
nificance of  fiction  as  a  form  of  literary  art.  Each  master  of  this 
modern  art  has  illustrated  some  aspect  of  social  life,  some  form 
of  social  influence,  some  peculiar  social  condition.  The  novel  of 
tendency  has  been  only  a  little  more  emphatic,  a  little  more  con- 
sciously directed  to  a  given  end,  than  the  great  mass  of  novels 
of  the  first  rank.  '  Romola  '  and  'Anna  Karenina '  are  as  defi- 
nite and  decisive  in  their  purpose  as  '  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,'  or 
'  Ramona.'  Dickens,  Thackeray,  George  Eliot,  Bjornson,  Tour- 
gueneff,  Balzac,  Spielhagen,  Zola,  Daudet,  are  never  triflers; 
whatever  their  differences  and  their  defects,  they  are  always  pro- 
foundly in  earnest  to  represent  the  fact  as  they  see  it.  The  fact 
may  be  repulsive,  even  loathsome,  but  it  is  always  a  fact  worth 
considering  "because  of  its  human  significance.  Tourgueneff's 
'  Annals  of  a  Sportsman/  Mrs.  Stowe's  *  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,' 
Mrs.  Jackson's  '  Ramona,'  Walter  Besant's  '  All  Sorts  and  Con- 
ditions of  Men,'  have  each  produced  results  so  definite  and 
marked  as  to  be  unmistakable;  but  these  stories  have  not  been 
more  earnest  in  tone  than  Daudet's  '  Nabob  '  or  '  Jack,'  Thack- 
eray's '  Vanity  Fair,'  Balzac's  '  Eugenie  Grandet,'  George  Eliot's 
'  Middlemarch.'  Each  of  these  admirable  works,  like  all  works 
of  their  rank,  has  touched  life  at  first  hand,  and  portrayed  or  in- 
terpreted it  with  masterly  insight  and  power.  In  each  the  social 
instinct  has  been  evident,  and  each  in  turn  has  disclosed  some 
social  fact  in  its  large  relations  and  results.  To  see  life  as  it  is 
and  men  as  they  are,  is  the  common  purpose  of  all  great  writers 
of  fiction.  So  complete  and  searching  has  been  the  survey  of 
social  life  by  the  novelists  that  'the  society  of  today,  with  all  its 
gradations  and  differences,  could  be  reproduced  from  the  pages 
of  fiction.  From  the  days  of  Fielding  to  those  of  Charles  Reade, 


STEl'HNSON  387 

English  life  has  never  missed  faithful  record  at  the  hands  of 
those  who  have  comprehended  it,  because  they  have  pierced  it 
with  their  sympathetic  insight.  Every  great  political  movement 
like  Chartism,  every  striking  political  incident  like  the  Gordon 
riots,  every  form  of  discontent  and  agitation  among  the  lower 
classes,  has  had  fit  and  often  lasting  record.  While  George  Eliot 
has  set  forth  the  tremendous  force  of  inheritance  and  environ- 
ment, the  vigorous  and  often  coarse  brush  of  Dickens  has  painted, 
on  a  great  canvas,  the  homely  life  of  the  common  people;  and 
.the  inimitable  art  of  Thackeray,  equally  akin  to  irony  and  tears, 
has  made  us  permanent  possessors  of  the  social  habit  and  charac- 
ter of  the  last  century.  The  virile  genius  of  Bjornson,  in  the 
latest  work  of  his  hand,  '  Flags  in  the  City  and  the  Harbor,'  deals 
with  some  of  the  most  obscure  problems  of  social  and  family 
life;  Tourgueneff  has  made  Russian  character  under  the  pressure 
of  absolutism  comprehensible  to  us ;  Tolstoi  commands  the  atten- 
tion of  a  new  constituency  of  readers  deeply  moved  by  the  mar- 
velous fidelity  with  which  he  produces  phases  of  experience,  hid- 
den processes  of  character,  at  once  remote  and  familiar ;  while  of 
Zola  it  must  be  confessed,  whatever  we  think  of  his  themes  and 
his  art,  that  he  at  least  assumes  to  lay  bare  the  very  heart  of 
certain  social  conditions  in  France.  Fiction  is  unquestionably  the 
most  attractive  and  influential  form  through  which  men  of  liter- 
ary genius  express  themselves  today ;  and  no  fact  of  social  sig- 
nificance, no  human  relationship,  no  class  limitation,  capacity  or 
condition,  will  escape  the  instinctive  search  for  life  which  pos- 
sesses this  generation.  That  which  the  student  of  social  ques- 
tions seeks  as  matter  of  science  the  novelist  seeks  as  matter  of 
art." 


PART    III 

CHAPTER  XLIII 

POETRY 

Before  dealing-  with  the  main  divisions  of  this  department 
of  literature,  it  is  necessary  to  present  some  criticism  on 
poetry  in  general,  with  the  view  to  obtain  a  clear  understand- 
ing of  what  poetry  is,  how  it  differs  from  prose,  and  what 
qualities  of  literary  art  are  therein  displayed  to  best  advantage. 
The  criticism  that  follows,  taken  from  standard  authors,  is 
the  best  obtainable  on  the  subject. 

Criticism  by  William  Wordsworth. — "  What  is  meant  by  the 
word  poet?  What  is  a  poet?  To  whom  does  he  address  him- 
self? And  what  language  is  to  be  expected  from  him?  He  is  a 
man  speaking  to  men :  a  man,  it  is  true,  endowed  with  more 
lively  sensibility,  more  enthusiasm  and  tenderness,  who  has  a 
greater  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  a  more  comprehensive 
soul,  than  are  supposed  to  be  common  among  mankind;  a  man 
pleased  with  his  own  passions  and  volitions,  and  who  rejoices 
more  than  other  men  in  the  spirit  of  life  that  is  in  him ;  delight- 
ing to  contemplate  similar  volitions  and  passions  as  manifested 
in  the  goings-on  of  the  universe,  and  habitually  impelled  to  create 
them  where  he  does  not  find  them.  To  these  qualities  he  has 
added  a  disposition  to  be  affected  more  than  other  men  by  absent 
things  as  if  they  were  present;  an  ability  of  conjuring  up  in  him- 
self passions,  which  are  indeed  far  from  being  the  same  as  those 
produced  by  real  events,  yet  (especially  in  those  parts  of  the  gen- 
eral sympathy  which  are  pleasing  and  delightful)  do  more  nearly 
resemble  the  passions  produced  by  real  events,  than  anything 
which  from  the  motions  of  their  own  minds  merely,  other  men  are 
accustomed  to  feel  in  themselves :  whence,  and  from  practice,  he 


VIEWED  BY  WORDSWORTH  389 

has  acquired  a  greater  readiness  and  power  in  expressing  what  he 
thinks  and  feels,  and  especially  those  thoughts  and  feelings  which, 
by  his  own  choice,  or  from  the  structure  of  his  own  mind,  arise  in 
him  without  immediate  external  excitement.  But  whatever  por- 
tion of  this  faculty  we  may  suppose  even  the  greatest  Poet  to 
possess,  there  cannot  be  a  doubt  that  the  language  which  it  will 
suggest  to. him,  must  often,  in  liveliness  and  truth,  fall  short  of 
that  which  is  uttered  by  men  in  real  life,  under  the  actual  pres- 
sure of  those  passions,  certain  shadows  of  which  the  Poet  thus 
produces,  or  feels  to  be  produced,  in  himself." 

Principle  of  Selection. — "  However  exalted  a  notion  we  would 
wish  to  cherish  of  the  character  of  a  Poet,  it  is  obvious  that  while 
he  describes  and  imitates  passions,  his  employment  is  in  some 
degree  mechanical,  compared  with  the  freedom  and  power  of  real 
and  substantial  action  and  suffering.  So  that  it  will  be  the  wish 
of  the  Poet  to  bring  his  feelings  near  to  those  of  the  persons 
whose  feelings  he  describes,  nay,  for  short  spaces  of  time,  per- 
haps, to  let  himself  slip  into  an  entire  delusion,  and  even  confound 
and  identify  his  own  feelings  with  theirs ;  modifying  only  the 
language  which  is  thus  suggested  to  him  by  a  consideration  that 
he  describes  for  a  particular  purpose,  that  of  giving  pleasure. 
Here,  then,  he  will  apply  the  principle  of  selection  which  has  been 
already  insisted  upon.  He  will  depend  upon  this  for  removing 
what  otherwise  would  be  painful  or  disgusting  in  the  passion ; 
he  will  feel  that  there  is  no  necessity  to  trick  out  or  to  elevate 
nature;  and,  the  more  industriously  he  applies  this  principle,  the 
deeper  will  be  his  faith  that  no  words,  which  his  fancy  or  im- 
agination can  suggest,  will  be  comparable  with  those  which  are 
the  emanations  of  reality  and  truth." 

Language. — "  But  it  may  be  said  by  those  who  do  not  object  to 
the  general  spirit  of  these  remarks,  that,  as  it  is  impossible  for 
the  Poet  to  produce  upon  all  occasions  language  as  exquisitely 
fitted  for  the  passion  as  that  which  the  real  passion  itself  sug- 
gests, it  is  proper  that  he  should  consider  himself  as  in  the  situa- 
tion of  a  translator,  (who  does  not  scruple  to  substitute  excel- 
lencies of  another  kind  for  those  which  are  unattainable  by  him ; 
and  endeavors  occasionally  to  surpass  his  original,  in  order  to  make 
some  amends  for  the  general  inferiority  to  which  he  feels  that  he 


390  POETRY 

must  submit.  But  this  would  be  to  encourage  idleness  and  un- 
manly despair.  Further,  it  is  the  language  of  men  who  speak 
of  what  they  do  not  understand ;  who  talk  of  poetry  as  of  a  matter 
of  amusement  and  idle  pleasure;  who  will  converse  with  us  as 
gravely  about  a  taste  for  poetry,  as  they  express  it,  as  if  it  were  a 
thing  as  indifferent  as  a  taste  for  rope-dancing,  or  Frontiniac  or 
Sherry.  Aristotle,  I  have  been  told,  has  said,  that  poetry  is  the 
most  philosophic  of  all  writing:  it  is  so:  its  object  is  truth,  not 
individual  and  local,  but  general,  and  operative ;  not  standing  upon 
external  testimony,  but  carried  alive  into  the  heart  by  passion ; 
truth  which  is  its  own  testimony,  which  gives  competence  and 
confidence  to  the  tribunal  to  which  it  appeals,  and  receives  it 
from  the  same  tribunal.  Poetry  is  the  image  of  man  and  nature. 
The  obstacles  which  stand  in  the  way  of  the  fidelity  of  the  Biogra- 
pher and  Historian,  and  of  their  consequent  utility,  are  incalcu- 
lably greater  than  those  which  are  to  be  encountered  by  the  Poet 
who  comprehends  the  dignity  of  his  art.  The  Poet  writes  under 
one  restriction  only,  namely,  the  necessity  of  giving  immediate 
pleasure  to  a  human  being  possessed  of  that  information  which 
may  be  expected  from  him,  not  as  a  lawyer,  a  physician,  a  mariner, 
an  astronomer  or  a  natural  philosopher,  but  as  a  Man.  Except 
this  one  restriction,  there  is  no  object  standing  between  the  Poet 
and  the  image  of  things ;  between  this  and  the  Biographer  and  His- 
torian, there  are  a  thousand." 

Poet  and  Scientist.—"  To  this  knowledge  which  all  men  carry 
about  with  them,  and  to  these  sympathies  in  which,  without  any 
other  discipline  than  that  of  our  daily  life,  we  are  fitted  to  take 
delight,  the  Poet  principally  directs  his  attention.  He  considers 
man  and  nature  as  essentially  adapted  to  each  other,  and  the  mind 
of  man  as  naturally  the  mirror  of  the  fairest  and  most  interesting 
properties  of  nature.  And  thus  the  Poet,  prompted  by  this  feel- 
ing of  pleasure,  which  accompanies  him  through  the  whole  course 
of  his  studies,  converses  with  general  nature,  with  affections  akin 
to  those,  which,  through  the  labor  and  length  of  time,  the  Man  of 
Science  has  raised  up  in  himself,  by  conversing  with  those  par- 
ticular parts  of  nature  which  are  the  objects  of  his  studies.  The 
knowledge  both  of  the  Poet  and  the  Man  of  Science  is  pleasure; 
but  the  knowledge  of  the  one  cleaves  to  us  as  the  necessary  part 
of  our  existence,  our  natural  and  inalienable  inheritance;  the  other 


VIEWED  BY  WORDSWORTH 

is  a  personal  and  individual  acquisition,  slow  to  come  to  us,  and  by 
no  habitual  and  direct  sympathy  connecting  us  with  our  fellow- 
beings.  The  Man  of  Science  seeks  truth  as  a  remote  and  un- 
known benefactor ;  he  cherishes  and  loves  it  in  his  solitude :  the 
Poet,  winging  a  song  in  which  all  human  beings  join  with  him, 
rejoices  in  the  presence  of  truth  as  our  visible  friend  and  hourly 
companion.  /  Poetry  is  the  breath  and  finer  spirit  of  all  knowl- 
edge; it  is  the  impassioned  expression  which  is  in  the  countenance 
of  all  science.!  Emphatically  may  it  be  said  of  the  Poet,  as  Shakes- 
peare hath  said  of  man,  '  That  he  looks  before  and  after/  He 
is  the  rock  of  defence  for  human  nature ;  an  upholder  and  pre- 
server, carrying  everywhere  with  him  relationship  and  love.  In 
spite  of  difference  of  soil  and  climate,  of  language  and  manners, 
of  laws  and  customs :  in  spite  of  things  silently  gone  out  of  mind, 
and  things  violently  destroyed ;  the  Poet  binds  together  by  passion 
and  knowledge  the  vast  empire  of  human  society,  as  it  is  spread 
over  the  whole  earth,  and  over  all  time.  The  objects  of  the  Poet's 
thoughts  are  everywhere ;  though  the  eyes  and  senses  of  men  are, 
it  is  true,  his  favorite  guides,  yet  he  will  follow  wheresoever  he 
can  find  an  atmosphere  of  sensation  in  which  to  move  his  wings. 
Poetry  is  the  first  and  last  of  all  knowledge  —  it  is  as  immortal 
as  the  heart  of  man.  If  the  labors  of  Men  of  Science  should  ever 
create  any  material  revolution,  direct  or  indirect,  in  our  condition, 
and  in  the  impressions  which  we  habitually  receive,  the  Poet  will 
sleep  then  no  more  than  at  present ;  he  will  be  ready  to  follow  the 
steps  of  the  Man  of  Science,  not  only  in  those  general  indirect 
effects,  but  he  will  be  at  his  side,  carrying  sensation  into  the  midst 
of  the  objects  of  the  science  itself.  The  remotest  discoveries  of 
the  Chemist,  the  Botanist,  or  Mineralogist,  will  be  as  proper  ob- 
jects of  the  Poet's  art  as  any  upon  which  it  can  be  employed,  if 
the  time  should  ever  come  when  these  things  shall  be  familiar  to 
us,  and  the  relations  under  which  the"y  are  contemplated  by  the 
followers  of  these  respective  sciences  shall  be  manifestly  and 
palpably  material  to  us  as  enjoying  and  suffering  beings.  If  the 
time  should  ever  come  when  what  is  now  called  science,  thus 
familiarized  to  men,  shall  be  ready  to  put  on,  as  it  were,  a  form 
of  flesh  and  blood,  the  Poet  will  lend  his  divine  spirit  to  aid  the 
transfiguration,  and  will  welcome  the  Being  thus  produced,  as  a 
dear  and  genuine  inmate  of  the  household  of  man.  It  is  not, 
then,  to  be  supposed  that  any  one,  who  holds  that  sublime  notion 


POETRY 

of  Poetry  which  I  have  attempted  to  convey,  will  break  in  upon 
the  sanctity  and  truth  of  his  pictures  by  transitory  and  accidental 
ornaments,  and  endeavor  to  excite  admiration  of  itself  by  arts, 
the  necessity  of  which  must  manifestly  depend  upon  the  assumed 
meanness  of  his  subject." 

Distinction  of  Language.—"  What  has  been  thus  far  said  applies 
to  Poetry  in  general ;  but  especially  to  those  parts  of  composition 
where  the  Poet  speaks  through  the  mouths  of  his  characters ;  and 
upon  this  point  it  appears  to  authorize  the  conclusion  that  there 
are  few  persons  of  good  sense,  who  would  not  allow  that  the 
dramatic  parts  of  composition  are  defective,  in  proportion  as  they 
deviate  from  the  real  language  of  nature,  and  are  colored  by  a 
diction  of  the  Poet's  own,  either  peculiar  to  him,  as  an  individual 
poet,  or  belonging  simply  to  Poets  in  general ;  to  a  body  of  men 
who,  from  the  circumstance  of  their  composition  being  in  metre, 
it  is  expected  will  employ  a  particular  language.  It  is  not,  then, 
in  the  dramatic  parts  of  composition  that  we  look  for  this  distinc- 
tion of  language ;  but  still  it  may  be  proper  and  necessary  where 
the  Poet  speaks  to  us  in  his  own  person  and  character.  To  this 
I  answer  by  referring  the  reader  to  the  description  before  given 
of  a  Poet.  Among  the  qualities  there  enumerated  as  principally 
conducing  to  form  a  poet,  is  implied  nothing  differing  in  kind  from 
other  men,  but  only  in  degree.  The  sum  of  what  was  said  is,  that 
the  Poet  is  chiefly  distinguished  from  other  men  by  a  greater 
promptness  to  think  and  feel  without  immediate  external  excite- 
ment, and  a  greater  power  in  expressing  such  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings as  are  produced  in  him,  in  that  manner. 

Summary. — "  I  have  said  that  poetry  is  the  spontaneous  overflow 
of  powerful  feelings :  it  takes  its  origin  from  emotion  recollected 
in  tranquillity :  the  emotion  is  contemplated  till,  by  a  species  of 
reaction,  the  tranquillity  gradually  disappears,  and  an  emotion, 
kindred  to  that  which  was  before  the  subject  of  contemplation,  is 
gradually  produced,  and  does  itself  actually  exist  in  the  mind. 
In  this  mood  successful  composition  generally  begins,  and  in  a 
mood  similar  to  this,  it  is  carried  on ;  but  the  emotion,  of  whatever 
kind,  and  in  whatever  degree,  from  various  causes,  is  qualified  by 
various  pleasures,  so  that  in  describing  any  passions  whatsoever, 
which  are  voluntarily  described,  the  mind  will,  upon  the  whole, 


VIEWED  BY  WORDSWORTH 

be  in  a  state  .of  enjoyment  If  Nature  be  thus  cautious  to  preserve 
in  a  state  of  enjoyment  a  being  so  employed,  the  J'oet  ought  to 
.profit  by  the  lesson  held  forth  to  him,  and  ought  especially  to  take 
care,  that,  whatever  passions  he  communicates  to  his  reader,  those 
passions,  if  his  reader's  mind  be  sound  and  vigorous,  should  al- 
ways be  accompanied  with  an  overbalance  of  pleasure.  Now  the 
music  of  harmonious  metrical  language,  the  sense  of  difficulty 
overcome,  and  the  blind  association  of  pleasure  which  has  'been 
previously  received  from  works  of  rhyme  or  metre  of  the  same 
or  similar  construction,  an  indistinct  perception  perpetually  re- 
newed of  language  closely  resembling  that  of  real  life,  and  yet,  in 
the  circumstance  of  metre,  differing  from  it  so  widely  —  all  these 
imperceptibly  make  up  a  complex  feeling  of  delight,  which  is  of 
the  most  important  use  in  tempering  the  painful  feeling  always 
found  intermingled  with  powerful  descriptions  of  the  deeper  pas- 
sions. This  effect  is  always  produced  in  pathetic  and  impassioned 
poetry;  while,  in  lighter  compositions,  the  ease  and  gracefulness 
with  which  the  poet  manages  his  numbers  are  themselves  con- 
fessedly a  principal  source  of  the  gratification  of  the  reader.  All 
that  is  necessary  to  say,  however,  upon  this  subject,  may  be 
effected  by  affirming,  what  few  persons  will  deny,  that  of  two 
descriptions,  either  of  passions,  manners,  or  characters,  each  of 
them  equally  well  executed,  the  one  in  prose  and  the  other  in 
verse,  the  verse  will  be  read  a  hundred  times  where  the  prose  is 
read  once." 


CHAPTER  XLIV 
POETRY   (CONTINUED) 

Criticism  by  Shelley. — "  Poetry,  in  a  general  sense,  may  be 
defined  to  be  *  the  expression  of  the  imagination :'  and  poetry  is 
connate  with  the  origin  of  man.  Man  is  an  instrument  over 
which  a  series  of  external  and  internal  impressions  are  driven, 
like  the  alterations  of  an  ever-changing  wind  over  an  ^olian 
lyre,  which  move  it  by  their  motion  to  ever-changing  melody. 
But  there  is  a  principle  within  the  human  being,  and  perhaps 
within  all  sentient  beings,  which  acts  otherwise  than  in  the  lyre, 
and  produces  not  melody  alone,  but  harmony,  by  an  internal 
adjustment  of  the  sounds  or  motions  thus  excited  to  the  impres- 
sions which  excite  them.  It  is  as  if  the  lyre  could  accommodate 
its  chords  to  the  motions  of  that  which  strikes  them,  in  a  de- 
termined proportion  of  sound;  even  as  the  musician  can  accom- 
modate his  voice  to  the  sound  of  the  lyre.  A  child  at  play  by 
itself  will  express  its  delight  by  its  voice  and  motions ;  and  every 
inflexion  of  tone  and  every,  gesture  will  bear  exact  relation  to  a 
corresponding  antitype  in  the  pleasurable  impressions  which 
awakened  it;  it  will  be  the  reflected  image  of  that  impression; 
and  as  the  lyre  trembles  and  sounds  after  the  wind  has  died 
away,  so  the  child  seeks,  by  prolonging  in  its  voice  and  motions 
the  duration  of  the  effect,  to  prolong  also  a  consciousness  of  the 
cause.  In  relation  to  the  objects  which  delight  a  child,  these 
expressions  are  what  poetry  is  to  higher  objects.  The  savage 
(for  the  savage  is  to  ages  what  the  child  is  to  years)  expresses 
the  emotions  produced  in  him  by  surrounding  objects  in  a  simi- 
lar manner;  and  language  and  gesture,  together  with  plastic  or 
pictorial  imitation,  become  the  image  of  the  combined  effect 
of  those  objects,  and  of  his  apprehension  of  them.  Man  in 
society,  with  all  his  passions  and  his  pleasures,  next  becomes  the 
object  of  the  passions  and  pleasures  of  man ;  an  additional  class 
of  emotions  produces  an  augmented  treasure  of  expressions ; 
and  language,  gesture,  and  the  imitative  arts  become  a,t  once 

394 


VIEWED  BY  SHELLEY 

the  representation  and  the  medium,  the  pencil  and  the  picture,  the 
chisel  and  the  statue,  the  chord  and  the  harmony. 

Origin  of  Poetry. — "  In  the  youth  of  the  world,  men  dance 
and  sing  and  imitate  natural  objects,  observing  in  these  actions, 
as  in  all  others,  a  certain  rhythm  or  order.  And,  although  all 
men  observe  a  similar,  they  observe  not  the  same,  order,  in  the 
motions  of  the  dance,  in  the  melody  of  the  song,  in  the  combina- 
tions of  language,  in  the  series  of  their  imitations  of  natural  ob- 
jects. For  there  is  a  certain  order  or  rhythm  belonging  to  each 
of  these  classes  of  mimetic  representation,  from  which  the  hearer 
and  the  spectator  receive  an  intenser  and  purer  pleasure  than 
from  any  other:  the  sense  of  an  approximation  to  this  order  has 
been  called  taste  by  modern  writers.  Every  man  in  the  infancy 
of  art  observes  an  order  which  approximates  more  or  less  closely 
to  that  from  which  this  highest  delight  results ;  but  the  diversity 
is  not  sufficiently  marked,  as  that  its  gradations  should  be  sensi- 
ble, except  in  those  instances  where  the  predominance  of  this 
faculty  of  approximation  to  the  beautiful  (for  so  we  may  be  per- 
mitted to  name  the  relation  between  this  highest  pleasure  and  its 
cause)  is  very  great.  Those  in  whom  it  exists  in  excess  are 
poets,  in  the  most  universal  sense  of  the  word ;  and  the  pleasure 
resulting  from  the  manner  in  which  they  express  the  influence  of 
society  or  nature  upon  their  own  minds,  communicates  itself  to 
others,  and  gathers  a  sort  of  reduplication  from  that  community. 
Their  language  is  vitally  metaphorical ;  that  is,  it  marks  the 
before  unapprehended  relation  of  things  and  perpetuates  their 
apprehension,  until  the  words  which  represent  them,  become, 
through  time,  signs  for  portions  or  classes  of  thoughts  instead  of 
pictures  of  integral  thoughts ;  and  then,  if  no  new  poets  should 
arise  to  create  afresh  the  associations  which  have  been  thus 
disorganized,  language  will  be  dead  to  all  the  nobler  purposes  of 
human  intercourse.  These  similitudes  of  relations  are  finely  said 
by  Lord  Bacon  to  be  '  the  same  footsteps  of  nature  impressed 
upon  the  various  subjects  of  the  world' — and  he  considers  the 
faculty  which  perceives  them  as  the  storehouse  of  axioms  com- 
mon to  all  knowledge.  In  the  infancy  of  society  every  author 
is  necessarily  a  poet,  because  language  itself  is  poetry;  and  to 
be  a  poet  is  to  apprehend  the  true  and  the  beautiful ;  in  a  word, 
the  good  which  exists  in  the  relation  subsisting,  first  between 


396  POETRY 

existence  and  perception,  and  secondly  between  perception  and 
expression.  Every  original  language  near  to  its  source  is  in  it- 
self the  chaos  of  a  cyclic  poem :  the  copiousness  of  lexicography 
and  the  distinctions  of  grammar  are  the  works  of  a  later  age, 
and  are  merely  the  catalogue  and  the  form  of  the  creations  of 
poetry." 

Work  of  Poets. — "  But  poets,  or  those  who  imagine  and  ex- 
press this  indestructible  order,  are  not  only  the  authors  of  lan- 
guage and  of  music,  of  the  dance,  and  architecture,  and  statuary 
and  painting:  they  are  the  institutors  of  laws,  and  the  founders 
of  civil  society,  and  the  inventors  of  the  arts  of  life,  and  the 
teachers  who  draw  into  a  certain  propinquity  with  the  beautiful 
and  the  true,  that  partial  apprehension  of  the  agencies  of  the  in- 
visible world  which  is  called  religion.  Hence,  all  originaf  re- 
ligions are  allegorical  or  susceptible  of  allegory,  and,  like 
Janus,  have  a  double  face  of  false  and  true.  Poets,  according 
to  the  circumstances  of  the  age  and  nation  in  which  they  ap- 
peared, were  called,  in  the  earlier  epochs  of  the  world,  legisla- 
tors, or  prophets :  a  poet  essentially  comprises  and  unites  both 
these  characters.  For  he  not  only  beholds  intensely  the  present, 
as  it  is,  and  discovers  those  laws  according  to  which  present 
things  ought  to  be  ordered,  but  he  beholds  the  future  in  the 
present,  and  his  thoughts  are  the  germs  of  the  flower  and  the 
fruit  of  latest  time. 

Materials  of  Poetry. — "  Language,  color,  form,  and  religious 
and  civil  habits  of  action  are  all  the  instruments  and  ma- 
terials of  poetry;  they  may  be  called  poetry  by  that  figure  of 
speech  which  considers  the  effect  as  a  synonym  of  the  cause. 
But  poetry  in  a  more  restricted  sense  expresses  those  arrange- 
ments of  language,  and,  especially,  metrical  language,  which  are 
created  by  that  imperial  faculty,  whose  throne  is  curtained  within 
the  invisible  nature  of  man.  And  this  springs  from  the  nature 
itself  of  language,  which  is  a  more  direct  representation  of  the 
actions  and  passions  of  our  internal  being,  and  is  susceptible  of 
more  various  and  delicate  combinations  than  colour,  form,  or 
motion,  and  is  more  plastic  and  obedient  to  the  control  of  that 
faculty  of  which  it  is  the  creation.  For  language  is  arbitrarily 
produced  by  the  imagination,  and  has  relation  to  the  thoughts 


VIEWED  BY  SHELLEY  397 

alone;  but  all  other  materials,  instruments  and  conditions  of  art 
have  relations  among  each  other,  which  limit  and  interpose  be- 
tween conception  and  expression.  The  former  is  as  a  mirror 
which  reflects,  the  latter  as  a  cloud  which  enfeebles,  the  light  of 
which  both  are  mediums  of  communication.  Hence,  the  fame  of 
sculptors,  painters,  and  musicians,  although  the  intrinsic  powers 
of  the  great  masters  of  these  arts  may  yield  in  no  degree  to  that 
of  those  who  have  employed  language  as  the  hieroglyphic  of  their 
thoughts,  has  never  equalled  that  of  poets  in  the  restricted  sense 
of  the  term;  as  two  performers  of  equal  skill  will  produce  un- 
equal effects  from  a  guitar  and  a  harp.  The  fame  of  legislators 
and  founders  of  religions,  so  long  as  their  instructions  last,  alone 
seems  to  exceed  that  of  poets  in  the  restricted  sense;  but  it  can 
scarcely  be  a  question  whether,  if  we  deduct  the  celebrity  which 
their  flattery  of  the  gross  opinions  of  the  vulgar  usually  con- 
ciliates, together  with  that  which  belonged  to  them  in  their 
higher  character  of  poets,  any  excess  will  remain.  We  have  thus 
circumscribed  the  word  poetry  within  the  limits  of  that  art  which 
is  the  most  familiar  and  the  most  perfect  expression  of  the 
faculty  itself.  It  is  necessary,  however,  to  make  the  circle  still 
narrower,  and  to  determine  the  distinction  between  measured  and 
unmeasured  language;  for  the  popular  division  into  prose  and 
verse  is  inadmissible  in  accurate  philosophy.  Sounds  as  well  as 
thoughts  have  relation  both  between  each  other  and  towards  that 
which  they  represent,  and  a  perception  of  the  order  of  those  rela- 
tions has  always  been  found  connected  with  a  perception  of  the 
order  of  the  relations  of  thoughts.  Hence,  the  language  of  poets 
has  ever  affected  a  certain  uniform  and  harmonious  recurrence 
of  sound,  without  which  it  were  not  poetry,  and  which  is  scarcely 
less  indispensable  to  a  communication  of  its  influence  than  the 
words  themselves,  without  reference  to  that  peculiar  order. 
Hence,  the  vanity  of  translation ;  it  were  as  wise  to  cast  a  violet 
into  a  crucible  that  you  might  discover  the  formal  principle  of  its 
color  and  odor,  as  to  seek  to  transfuse  from  one  language  into 
another  the  creations  of  a  poet.  The  plant  must  spring  again 
from  its  seed,  or  it  will  bear  no  flower  —  and  this  is  the  burden 
of  the  curse  of  Babel." 

Poets  and  Prose  Writers.— "  An    observation     of    the    regular 
mode  of  the  recurrence  of  harmony  in  the  language  of  poetical 


39g  POETRY 

minds,  together  with  its  relation  to  music,  produced  metre,  or  a 
certain  system  of  traditional  forms  of  harmony  and  language. 
Yet  it  is  by  no  means  essential  that  a  poet  should  accommodate 
his  language  to  this  traditional  form,  so  that  the  harmony,  which 
is  its  spirit,  be  observed.  The  practice  is  indeed  convenient  and 
popular,  and  to  be  preferred,  especially  in  such  composition  as  in- 
cludes much  action ;  but  every  great  poet  must  inevitably  innovate 
upon  the  example  of  his  predecessors  in  the  exact  structure  of  his 
peculiar  versification.  The  distinction  between  poets  and  prose 
writers  is  a  vulgar  error.  The  distinction  between  philosophers 
and  poets  has  been  anticipated.  Plato  was  essentially  a  poet  — 
the  truth  and  splendor  of  his  imagery,  and  the  melody  of  his 
language,  are  the  most  intense  that  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 
He  rejected  the  measure  of  the  epic,  dramatic,  and  lyrical  forms, 
because  he  sought  to  kindle  a  harmony  in  thoughts  divested  in 
shape  and  action,  and  he  forebore  to  invent  any  regular  plan  of 
rhythm  which  would  include,  under  determinate  forms,  the  varied 
pauses  of  his  style.  Cicero  sought  to  imitate  the  cadence  of  his 
periods,  but  with  little  success.  Lord  Bacon  was  a  poet.  His 
language  has  a  sweet  and  majestic  rhythm,  which  satisfies  the 
sense,  no  less  than  the  almost  superhuman  wisdom  of  his  philoso- 
phy satisfies  the  intellect;  it  is  a  strain  which  distends,  and  then 
bursts  the  circumference  of  the  reader's  mind,  and  pours  itself 
forth  together  with  it  into  the  universal  element  with  which  it  has 
perpetual  sympathy.  All  the  authors  of  revolutions  in  opinion 
are  not  only  necessarily  poets  as  they  are  inventors,  nor  even  as 
their  words  unveil  the  permanent  analogy  of  things  by  images 
which  participate  in  the  life  of  truth ;  but  as  their  periods  are 
harmonious  and  rhythmical,  and  contain  in  themselves  the  ele- 
ments of  verse;  being  the  echo  of  the  eternal  music.  Nor  are 
those  supreme  poets,  who  have  employed  traditional  forms  of 
rhythm  on  account  of  the  form  and  action  of  their  subjects,  less 
capable  of  perceiving  and  teaching  the. truth  of  things,  than  those 
who  have  omitted  that  form.  Shakespeare,  Dante  and  Milton 
(to  confine  ourselves  to  modern  writers)  are  philosophers  of  the 
very  loftiest  power." 

Functions  of  the  Poetic  Faculty.—"  The  functions  of  the  poetic 
faculty  are  twofold ;  by  one  it  creates  new  materials  of  knowledge, 
and  power,  and  pleasure ;  by  the  other  it  engenders  in  the  mind  a 


VIEWED  BY  SHELLEY 

desire  to  reproduce  and  arrange  them  according  to  a  certain 
rhythm  and  order  which  may  be  called  the  beautiful  and  the  good. 
The  cultivation  of  poetry  is  never  more  to  be  desired  than  at 
periods  when,  from  an  excess  of  the  selfish  and  calculating  prin- 
ciple, the  accumulation  of  the  materials  of  external  life  exceeds 
the  quantity  of  the  power  of  assimilating  them  to  the  internal 
laws  of  human  nature.  The  body  has  then  become  too  unwieldy 
for  that  which  animates  it." 

Poetry  and  Knowledge.- "  Poetry  is  indeed  something  divine. 
It  is  at  once  the  center  and  circumference  of  knowledge ;  it  is 
that  which  comprehends  all  science,  and  that  to  which  all  science 
must  be  referred.  It  is  at  the  same  time  the  root  and  blossom  of 
all  other  systems  of  thought ;  it  is  that  from  which  all  spring, 
and  that  which  adorns  all ;  and  that  which,  if  blighted,  denies  the 
fruit  and  the  seed,  and  withholds  from  the  barren  world  the 
nourishment  and  the  succession  of  the  scions  of  the  tree  of  life. 
It  is  the  perfect  and  the  consummate  surface  and  bloom  of  all 
things ;  it  is  as  the  odour  and  the  colour  of  the  rose  to  the  texture 
of  the  elements  which  compose  it,  as  the  form  and  splendor  of  un- 
faded  beauty  to  the  secrets  of  anatomy  and  corruption.  What 
were  virtue,  love,  patriotism,  friendship  —  what  were  the  scenery 
of  this  beautiful  universe  which  we  inhabit ;  what  were  our  con- 
solations on  this  side  of  the  grave  —  and  what  were  our  aspira- 
tions beyond  it,  if  poetry  did  not  ascend  to  bring  light  and  fire 
from  those  eternal  regions  where  the  owl-winged  faculty  of  calcu- 
lation dare  not  ever  soar?  Poetry  is  not  like  reasoning,  a  power 
to  be  exerted  according  to  the  determination  of  the  will.  A  man 
cannot  say,  '  I  will  compose  poetry.'  The  greatest  poet  even 
cannot  say  it ;  for  the  mind  in  creation  is  as  a  fading  coal,  which 
some  invisible  influence,  like  an  inconstant  wind,  awakens  to 
transitory  brightness ;  this  power  arises  from  within,  like  the 
colour  of  a  flower  which  fades  and  changes  as  it  is  developed, 
and  the  conscious  portions  of  our  natures  are  unprophetic  either 
of  its  approach  or  its  departure.  Could  this  influence  be  durable 
in  its  original  purity  and  force,  it  is  impossible  to  predict  the 
greatness  of  the  results ;  but  when  composition  begins,  inspira- 
tion is  already  on  the  decline,  and  the  most  glorious  poetry  that 
Kis  ever  been  communicated  to  the  world  is  probably  a  feeble 
shadow  of  the  original  conceptions  of  the  poet. 


400  POETRY 

A  Record  of  the  Best  Minds. — "  Poetry  is  the  record  of  the  best 
and  happiest  moments  of  the  happiest  and  best  minds.  We  are 
aware  of  evanescent  visitations  of  thought  and  feelings  some- 
times associated  with  place  or  person,  sometimes  regarding  our 
own  mind  alone,  and  always  arising  unforeseen  and  departing  un- 
bidden, but  elevating  and  delightful  beyond  all  expression :  so 
^  that  even  in  the  desire  and  the  regret  they  leave,  there  cannot  be 
but  pleasure,  participating  as  it  does  .in  the  nature  of  its  object. 
It  is,  as  it  were,  the  interpenetration  of  a  diviner  nature  through 
our  own ;  but  its  footsteps  are  like  those  of  a  wind  over  the  sea, 
which  the  coming  calm  erases,  and  whose  traces  remain  only 
as  on  the  wrinkled  sand  which  paves  it.  These  and  correspond- 
ing conditions  of  being  are  experienced  principally  by  those  of 
the  most  delicate  sensibility  and  the  most  enlarged  imagination; 
and  the  state  of  mind  produced  by  them  is  at  -war  with  every 
base  desire.  The  enthusiasm  of  virtue,  love,  patriotism,  and 
friendship  is  essentially  linked  with  such  emotions ;  and  whilst 
they  last,  self  appears  as  what  it  is,  an  atom  to  a  universe.  Poets 
are  not  only  subject  to  these  experiences  as  spirits  of  the  most 
refined  organizations,  but  they  can  colour  all  that  they  combine 
with  the  evanescent  hues  of  this  ethereal  world ;  a  word,  a  trait 
in  the  representation  of  a  scene  or  a  passion  will  touch  the  en- 
chanted chord,  and  reanimate,  in  those  who  have  ever  experienced 
these  emotions,  the  sleeping,  the  cold,  the  buried  image  of  the 
past.  Poetry  thus  makes  immortal  all  that  is  best  and  most  beau- 
tiful in  the  world ;  it  arrests  the  vanishing  apparitions  which 
haunt  the  interlunations  of  life,  and  veiling  them,  or  in  language 
or  in  form,  sends  them  forth  among  mankind,  bearing  sweet  news 
of  kindred  joy  to  those  with  whom  their  sisters  abide, —  because 
there  is  no  portal  of  expression  from  the  caverns  of  the  spirit 
which  they  inhabit  into  the  universe  of  things.  Poetry  redeems 
from  decay  the  visitations  of  the  divinity  in  man.  Poetry  turns 
all  things  to  loveliness ;  it  exalts  the  beauty  of  that  which  is  most 
beautiful,  and  it  adds  beauty  to  that  which  is  most  deformed ;  it 
marries  exultation  and  horror,  grief  and  pleasure,  eternity  and 
change ;  it  subdues  to  union  under  its  light  yoke  all  irreconcilable 
things.  It  transmutes  all  that  it  touches,  and  every  form  moving 
within  the  radiance  of  its  presence  is  changed  by  wondrous 
sympathy  to  an  incarnation  of  the  spirit  which  it  breathes:  its 
secret  alchemy  turns  to  potable  gold  the  poisonous  waters  which 


VIEWED  BY  SHELLEY  4Oi 

flow  from  death  through  life ;  it  strips  the  veil  of  familiarity  from 
the  world,  and  lays  bare  the  naked  and  sleeping  beauty,  which  is 
the  spirit  of  its  forms.  All  things  exist  as  they  are  perceived : 
at  least  in  relation  to  the  percipient.  *  The  mind  is  its  own  place, 
and  of  itself  can  make  a  heaven  of  hell,  a  hell  of  heaven.'  But 
poetry  defeats  the  curse  which  binds  us  to  be  subjected  to  the  ac- 
cident of  surrounding  impressions.  And  whether  it  spreads  its 
own  figured  curtain,  or  withdraws  life's  dark  veil  from  before 
the  scene  of  things,  it  equally  creates  for  us  a  being  within  our 
being.  It  makes  us  the  inhabitants  of  a  world  to  which  .the 
familiar  world  is  a  chaos.  It  reproduces  the  common  universe 
of  which  we  are  portions  and  percipients,  and  it  purges  from  our 
inward  sight  the  film  of  familiarity  which  obscures  from  us  the 
wonder  of  our  being.  It  compels  us  to  feel  that  which  we  .per- 
ceive, and  to  imagine  that  which  we  know.  It  creates  anew  the 
universe,  after  it  has. been  annihilated  in  our  minds  by  the  recur- 
rence of  impressions  blunted  by  reiteration.  It  justifies  the  bold 
and  true  words  of  Tasso :  '  Non  merita  nome  di  creatore,  se  non 
Iddio  ed  il  Poetaf  * 

Qualities  of  a  Poet- "  A  poet,  as  he  is  the  author  to  others  of 
the  highest  wisdom,  pleasure,  virtue  and  glory,  so  he  ought  per- 
sonally to  be  the  happiest,  the  best,  the  wisest,  and  the  most  illus- 
trious of  men.  As  to  his  glory,  let  time  be  challenged  to  declare 
whether  the  fame  of  any  other  institutor  of  human  life  be  com- 
parable to  that  of  a  poet.  That  he  is  the  wisest,  the  happiest,  and 
the  best,  inasmuch  as  he  is  a  poet,  is  equally  incontrovertible : 
the  greatest  poets  have  been  men  of  the  most  spotless  virtue, 
of  the  most  consummate  prudence,  and,  if  we  would  look  into 
the  interior  of  their  lives,  the  most  fortunate  of  men :  and  the 
exceptions,  as  they  regard  those  who  possessed  the  poetic  faculty 
in  a  high,  yet  inferior  degree,  will  be  found  on  consideration  to 
confine  rather  than  destroy  the  rule.  Let  us  for  a  moment  stoop 
to  the  arbitration  of  popular  breath,  and  usurping  and  uniting 
in  our  own  persons  the  incompatible  characters  of  accuser,  wit- 
ness, judge,  and  executioner,  let  us  decide,  without  trial,  testi- 
mony, or  form,  that  certain  motives  of  those  who  are  '  there  sit- 
ting where  we  may  not  soar/  are  reprehensible.  Let  us  assume 
that  Homer  was  a  drunkard.,  that  Virgil  was  a  flatterer,  that 
Horace  was  a  coward,  that  Tasso  was  a  madman,  that  Lord  Bacon 


402  POETRY 

was  a  peculator,  that  Raphael  was  a  libertine,  that  Spenser  was 
a  poet-laureate.  It  is  inconsistent  with  the  division  of  our  sub- 
ject to  cite  living  poets,  but  posterity  has  done  ample  justice  to 
the  great  names  now  referred  to.  Their  errors  have  been 
weighed  and  found  to  have  been  dust  in  the  balance ;  if  their  sins 
'  were  as  scarlet,  they  are  now  white  as  snow ; '  they  have  been 
washed  in  the  blood  of  the  mediator  and  redeemer,  Time.  Ob- 
serve in  what  a  ludicrous  chaos  the  imputations  of  real  or 
fictitious  crime  have  been  confused  in  the  contemporary  calumnies 
against  poetry  and  poets ;  consider  how  little  is  as  it  appears  — 
or  appears  as  it  is;  look  to  your  own  motives,  and  judge  not,  lest 
ye  be  judged." 

Poetry  and  Logic.—"  Poetry,  as  has  been  said,  differs  in  this 
respect  from  logic,  that  it  is  not  subject  to  the  control  of  the 
active  powers  of  the  mind,  and  that  its  birth  and  recurrence  have 
no  necessary  connection  with  the  consciousness  or  will.  It  is  pre- 
sumptuous to  determine  that  these  are  the  necessary  conditions  of 
all  mental  causation,  when  mental  effects  are  experienced  unsus- 
ceptible of  being  referred  to  them.  The  frequent  recurrence  of 
the  poetical  power,  it  is  obvious  to  suppose,  may  produce  in  the 
mind  a  habit  of  order  and  harmony  correlative  with  its  own  na- 
ture and  with  its  effects  upon  other  minds.  But  in  the  intervals 
of  inspiration,  and  they  may  be  frequent  without  being  durable, 
a  poet  becomes  a  man,  and  is  abandoned  to  the  sudden  reflux 
of  the  influences  under  which  others  habitually  live.  But  as  he  is 
more  delicately  organized  than  other  men,  and  sensible  to  pain 
and  pleasure,  both  his  own  and  that  of  others,  in  a  degree  un- 
known to  them,  he  will  avoid  the  one  and  pursue  the  other  with 
an  ardour  proportioned  to  this  difference.  And  he  renders  him- 
self obnoxious  to  calumny  when  he  neglects  to  observe  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  these  objects  of  universal  pursuit  and 
flight  have  disguised  themselves  in  one  another's  garments." 

Sources  of  Criticism.— Besides  the  critics  quoted  in  the 
foregoing  pages,  the  criticism  of  Aristotle,  Horace,  Vida, 
Boileau,  not  to  mention,  such  critics  as  Johnson,  Puttenham, 
Sidney,  Gosse,  Stedman,  Lacy,  Arnold,  in  our  own  tongue, 
ought  to  be  familiar  to  the  student.  Authorities  ancient  and 


VIEWED  BY  SHELLEY  403 

modern  form  a  small  library.  But  throughout  this  mass  of 
criticism  there  is  a  large  amount  of  repetition;  and  the  pas- 
sages quoted,  here,  while  avoiding  such  repetition,  exhibit  the 
matter  fairly  well  out  of  English  stores,  giving  the  student 
a  fair  estimate  of  what  poetry  is,  and  the  place  it  holds  in 
literature.  There  remains  to  consider  the  chief  divisions  of 
poetry :  the  drama,  the  epic  and  the  lyric. 


CHAPTER  XLV 
THE  DRAMA 

Definition.-—  The  word,  drama,  is  derived  from  the  Greek 
(drawo)  and  signifies  action.  Aristotle  defines  the  drama  as 
an  action  complete,  organic,  with  unity  of  theme  and  purpose. 
Lessing  defines  it  as  the  mirror  of  human  life;  he  calls  it  the 
highest  form  of  literary  art  inasmuch  as  the  dramatic  artist 
holds  the  mirror  up  to  life  in  its  most  complex  and  subtle 
relations.  The  drama  is  a  work  of  art  because  it  is  an  imita- 
tion; it  imitates  action;  it  presents  personages  as  real  and  as 
acting.  Hence,  Schlegel  calls  dramatic  art  an  imitation  in 
the  way  of  action.  The  drama  originated  in  man's  love  of 
imitation..  "  To  imitate,"  says  Aristotle,  "  is  instinctive  in 
man  from  his  infancy;  and  from  imitation  all  men  naturally 
receive  pleasure  —  imitation  in  voice  and  gesture,  in  dress  and 
decoration,  in  character  and  action."  But  of  these  various 
imitations,  character  and  action  are  vitally  related  to  the 
drama. 

Meaning  of  an  "  Action."—  The  action  in  dramatic  art  has 
a  specific  meaning.  It  implies  an  operation  of  the  will ;  a 
fulfillment  or  carrying  out  of  a  personal  resolution.  The 
action  must,  therefore,  present  itself  to  the  human  mind  as 
having  its  source  in  a  human  or  superhuman  will ;  in  other 
words,  persons,  and  not  brutes  or  the  inferior  creation,  must 
be  represented  as  acting.  Hence,  the  standard  phrase,  Dra- 
m-atis  personae.  The  action  of  a  drama  connotes  an  actor; 
hence,  dramas  are  written  to  be  acted  —  to  be  interpreted  by 

404 


THE  ACTION 

an  actor.  Therefore,  properly  speaking,  the  literary  drama  is 
a  misnomer.  The  title,  literary  drama,  is  sometimes  used  of 
works  kept  apart  from  the  stage;  but  the  true  drama  is  in- 
separable from  the  actor  and  the  stage.  The  action  of  the 
drama  has  for  its  necessary  correlative  the  actor.  He  is  the 
interpreter  of  the  action;  and  he  is  always  kept  in  mind  by 
the  dramatic  artist.  Hence,  there  is  a  vital  connection  be- 
tween the  dramatic  art  and  the  histrionic  art. 

• 

The  First  Requirement  for  the  Action. —  The  drama  ap- 
peals, in  the  first  place,  to  our  intelligence.  Therefore,  the 
action  of  the  play  should  have  a  logical  sequence  —  a  begin- 
ning, a  middle,  and  an  end.  The  beginning  states  the  cause 
of  the  action ;  the  middle,  the  development  of  the  action ;  the 
end,  the  result  of  the  action;  hence,  in  the  drama  there  is  a 
premise,  an  argument,  and  a  conclusion. 

The  Second  Requirement  for  the  Action. —  The  action  should 
contain  a  unifying  idea  —  an  idea  that  gives  organic  unity 
and  completeness  to  the  drama.  Aristotle  calls  it  the  dramatic 
idea ;  he  calls  it  dramatic,  because  it  involves  such  a  theme  as 
love,  jealousy,  ambition  —  a  theme  which  impels  men  to  act; 
the  dramatic  idea  involves,  besides  the  general  theme  of 
love  or  ambition,  a  particular  theme  such  as  the  love  of 
Romeo ;  the  ambition  of  Caesar.  In  other  words,  the  dra- 
matic idea  is  concreted  in  some  personal  example.  For  ex- 
ample, the  personification  of  ambition  leading  to  moral  ruin 
in  Macbeth. 

A  Third  Requirement  for  the  Action. —  The  drama  is  based 
on  the  truth  of  life;  hence,  probability  is  essential  to  the  action. 
An  improbable  theme,  or  the  improbable  treatment  of  a  theme, 
is  but  a  travesty  of  dramatic  art.  The  action  must  appeal 
to  the  audience  as  natural  and  likely -to  occur. 


406  THE  DRAMA 

A  Fourth  Requirement  for  the  Action. —  The  action  in- 
volves incidents,  a  series  of  happenings;  these  incidents  lie 
about  every  dramatic  idea  in  greater  or  less  proportion.  The 
dramatic  idea  cannot  stand  unless  supported  by  these  inci- 
dents. For  example,  the  assassination  of  a  man  or  the  be- 
heading of  a  woman  would  give  no  other  sensation  than  that 
of  horror;  but  when  we  know  with  all  the  attendant  circum- 
stances, that  one  is  Robespierre  and  the  other  Marie  Antoi- 
nette, we  feel  at  jDnce  the  force  of  the  dramatic  idea.  In 
other  words,  the  conditions  and  the  cause,  as  well  as  the  re- 
sult of  the  action,  are  essential.  The  incidents  and  happen- 
ings that  support  the  action  are  organized  into  acts.  Custom 
has  divided  dramas  of  serious  import  into  five  acts;  but  this 
is  largely  a  convenience ;  there  is  no  arbitrary  number.  Aris- 
totle makes  no  mention  of  acts ;  though  the  Greek  plays  had 
irregular  pauses  sustained  by  the  chorus.  Shakespeare's  plays 
were  not  originally  so  divided.  The  acts  as  parts  of  a  drama, 
are  separated  by  an  interval.  The  spectator  supposes  certain 
things  to  pass  in  the  intervening  time  —  things  of.no  ma- 
terial interest,  though  occurring  in  the  natural  development 
of  the  dramatic  idea.  For  example,  the  twenty  years'  sleep 
of  Rip  Van  Winkle.  Moreover,  there  are  particular  reasons 
why  there  should  be  periods  of  rest.  There  are  many  plays 
of  great  intensity  where  the  chief  actor  could  not  bear  the 
strain,  physical,  mental,  and  emotional.  For  example,  Julius 
Caesar,  Richelieu;  among  modern  dramas,  Cyrano  de  Ber- 
gerac.  The  intervals  between  the  acts  allow  rest  and  a  hus- 
bandry of  resources.  Again,  the  several  acts  present  distinct 
pictures,  and  so  assist  in  the  final  and  full  understanding  of 
the  drama.  Modern  custom  divides  a  drama  into  acts;  the 
acts,  into  scenes ;  and  all  contribute  to  intelligent  work  and 
to  the  general  understanding  of  the  play  in  the  performance. 
Each  scene  accomplishes  something,  and  the  sum  of  these 
scenes  makes  the  act,  as  the  sum  of  the  acts  makes  the  play. 


THE  ACTION  407 

The  length  of  acts  and  scenes  cannot  be  determined  with 
mathematical  precision.  The  length  of  an  act  is  determined 
by  what  that  act  has  to  accomplish.  Acts  are  long  and  short, 
and  vary  like  paragraphs  in  an  essay,  according  to  the  im- 
portance of  their  subordinate  themes. 

The  Fifth  Requirement  for  the  Action. —  The  action  of  the 
drama  must  possess  importance  and  magnitude.  The  object 
of  the  struggle  such  as  the  drama  implies,  ought  to  have  suffi- 
cient dignity  to  command  general  attention.  Hence,  the  chief 
characters  of  the  drama  are,  as  a  rule,  people  from  the  higher 
walks  of  life  —  statesmen,  kings,  cardinals,  commanders ; 
also  supernatural  beings  —  angels,  devils,  gods.  These  char- 
acters naturally  excite  interest.  The  importance  and  magni- 
tude of  the  action  depend  not  only  upon  the  natural  dignity 
of  the  chief  characters,  but  also  upon  the  importance  of  their 
acts.  For  example,  a  king  playing  chess ;  a  king  playing 
for  a  neighboring  crown.  In  other  words,  both  character 
and  action  should  be  important.  Judged  by  this  standard  the 
Crucifixion  furnishes  the  best  material  for  a  drama. 

The  Sixth  Requirement  for  the  Action. —  The  action  of  the 
drama  should  represent  all  that  is  important  to  the  under- 
standing of  the  play,  in  the  strong  excitement  of  the  charac- 
ters and  in  a  continuously  progressive  increase  of  effects. 
The  action  must  be  capable  of  the  strongest  dramatic  excite- 
ment; that  is  to  say,  it  must  contain  many  thrilling  moments, 
climax  succeeding  climax,  till  the  final  catastrophe;  person- 
ages must  be  represented  in  their  most  intimate  emotional 
relations  with  each  other,  in  order  to  excite  a  corresponding 
emotion  in  the  audience.  Moreover,  the  struggle  of  the  hero 
should  be  such  as  the  audience  may  easily  understand  and 
sympathize  with.  Hence,  the  elemental  and  universal  pas- 
sions —  love,  hatred,  cruelty,  revenge,  ambition,  are  the  best 


408  THE  DRAMA 

themes  for  the   drama.     They  make  the   widest  appeal,   and 
are  capable  of  the  strongest  dramatic  excitement. 

Divisions  of  the  Action. —  The  smallest  division  of  the  ac- 
tion is  the  scene.  Scenes  are  of  two  kinds :  first,  the  painted 
picture,  commonly  known  as  the  scenery  of  the  stage;  sec- 
ondly, what  actually  takes  place,  what  is  said  and  done  by  the 
players.  It  is,  therefore,  a  segment  of  the  action.  Each  act 
has  its  special  function  — •  a  distinctness  and  a  relative  com- 
pleteness of  its  own.  An  act  is  made  up  of  scenes,  just  as  a 
play  is  made  up  of  acts.  Each  act,  to  the  smallest  particle, 
must  have  a  definite  purpose ;  so  with  each  scene.  All  scenes 
are  incidents  leading  up  to  a  main  incident  called  the  climax. 
Threads  run  through  the  drama,  binding  the  smallest  parts 
together,  like  nerves  in  the  human  body. 

First  Requirement  for  the  Scene. —  A  scene  must  accom- 
plish something  toward  the  general  result.  The  impression 
made  by  a  scene  may  be  very  strong  of  itself,  very  beautiful 
or  very  pathetic ;  but  if  it  does  not  belong  in  every  fibre  to  the 
action,  dramatic  law  has  no  pardon  for  it. 

Second  Requirement  for  the  Scene. —  Each  scene  must  be 
in  sequence.  It  must  occupy  its  proper  place  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  action;  it  must  sustain  a  gradual  scale  leading 
up  to  the  climax  and  down  to  the  catastrophe.  The  skill  of 
the  dramatic  artist  is  shown  by  so  arranging  the  scenes  as  to 
secure  an  orderly,  yet  ever-increasing  momentum  in  the  action 
of  the  drama. 

The  Dialogue  in  the  Scene. —  The  dialogue  is,  as  a  rule, 
required  to  make  a  scene.  The  greater  part  of  the  action  is 
carried  on  in  dialogue.  The  dialogue  implies  two  persons 
either  in  harmony  with  each  other,  or  at  variance.  Their 


THE  MONOLOGUE  400 

agreement  or  opposition  furthers  the  action.  Most  scenes 
are,  of  necessity,  dialogues.  Human  life  is  thus  best  presented 
to  an  audience.  Like  every  particle  in  the  dramatic  struc- 
ture, the  dialogue  must  follow  certain  laws.  First,  it  must 
be  organic,  with  definiteness  of  purpose.  Secondly,  it  must 
always  advance  the  action.  Thirdly,  it  should  be  suitable  to 
character  in  thought  and  dialect;  so  as  to  express  the  finer 
relations  between  the  people  of  the  play. 

Some  Characteristics  of  the  Dialogue. —  As  variety  in  speech 
is  the  rule  of  life,  so  great  variety  marks  the  dialogue.  It 
is  as  varied  as  character  and  social  standing.  The  second 
characteristic  of  the  dialogue  is  contrast  of  thought.  This  con- 
trast is  its  great  stimulus.  It  is  carried  on,  not  by  words 
alone,  but  by  look  and  gesture.  In  fact,  the  manner  and 
bearing  of  the  actors  should  figure  quite  as  prominently  as 
the  words  exchanged.  The  action  of  the  drama  would  be 
quite  tame  without  such  aids.  Finally,  the  dialogue  gets  over 
ground  rapidly;  hence,  its  common  use  in  dramatic  scenes. 
The  greater  the  number  of  persons  in  the  scene,  the  slower 
the  action ;  and  slowness  of  action  is  fatal ;  the  audience  grows 
weary.  With  the  dialogue  usually  go  "  asides,"  or  remarks 
aside,  and  the  monologue.  "  Asides  "  are  natural  and  com- 
mon enough  in  life.  They  appear  artificial  only  when  actors 
are  clumsy.  They  are  a  part  of  the  dramatic  machinery. 
They  keep  the  audience  in  touch  with  the  development  of  the 
action.  They  are  sometimes  a  material  part  of  the  action. 
For  example,  Macbeth :  "  Stars,  hide  your  fires." 

The  Monologue. —  The  monologue  is  also  very  useful.  In 
supreme  moments  it  is  entirely  natural.  The  drama  is  life, 
and  men  make  their  most  serious  resolves  in  solitude  —  alone. 
Hence,  the  naturalness  of  the  monologue.  The  monologue 
gives  the  hero  of  the  modern  stage  opportunity  to  reveal  to 
the  audience  his  most  secret  feeling  and  volition.  Its  use. 


4IO  THE  DRAMA 

however,  is  limited;  because  the  influence  of  the  struggle  of 
each  man  on  every  purpose  of  the  drama  is  so  great  that  every 
isolation  of  the  individual  must  be  specially  justified.  Only 
where  a  rich  inner  life  has  been  concealed  for  a  long  time 
in  the  general  play,  does  the  audience  tolerate  its  private  reve- 
lation. The  audience  cares  little  for  the  quiet  expression  of 
an  individual  so  long  as  the  connection  and  contrasts  may  be 
gleaned  from  a  dialogue. 

Pauses. —  Monologues   represent  a  pause  for  rest  in  the 

action.  They  place  the  speaker  in  a  significant  manner  be- 
fore the  audience.  Hence,  they  need  in  advance  of  them- 
selves an  excited  tension  of  feeling  in  the  audience.  They 
may  open  a  scene,  or  be  placed  between  two  scenes  of  an  ex- 
citing character.  But  they  must  always  be  constructed  dra- 
matically; that  is,  by  weighing  both  sides  of  the  struggle  they 
must  win  something  significant  for  the  action  itself.  For 
example,  Hamlet's  two  soliloquies;  Macbeth's  air  drawn  dag- 
ger. Aside  from  dramatic  uses,  the  monologue,  which  is  as  a 
rule  a  literary  gem,  becomes  a  favorite  passage  with  the  pub- 
lic. In  the  construction  of  scenes  the  monologue,  dialogue, 
and  "  asides  "  represent  the  lyric  or  emotional  element ;  the 
epic  element  is  represented  by  the  messenger.  Hence,  the 
announcements  by  messenger  are  an  important  part  in  our 
drama.  They  relieve  the  tension,  give  the  audience  a  pause 
for  breath.  These  announcements  are  called  the  epic  element 
because  they  recite  in  the  third  person  the  deeds  of  the  hero 
or  chief  character.  These  narratives  represent  portions  of  the 
action  which  cannot  be  conveniently  staged.  For  example, 
a  great  battle  or  popular  commotion,  the  results  of  which  are 
reported  by  messengers  to  the  audience.  In  this  connection, 
announcements  by  messenger  are  essential  to  the  integrity 
of  the  action.  In  the  Greek  drama,  notably  those  of  ^Eschy- 
lus,  whole  scenes  were  given  up  to  narratives  from  messen- 


THE  EPISODE  4!  ! 

gers;  in  the  modern  drama  there  are  no  messenger-scenes  as 
such ;  but  messengers  are  still  an  important  part,  a  necessary 
adjunct. 

Groups  in  the  Scene. —  The  grouping  of  characters  was 
unknown  to  the  Greeks.  It  necessarily  belongs  to  the  modern 
drama  wherein  there  is  a  large  scope  of  life.  Groups  con- 
sist of  three  or  more  persons  on  the  stage ;  hence,  they  intro- 
duce the  picturesque  element  and  heighten  the  effect.  It  be- 
comes the  dramatist's  care  to  give  employment  to  all  these 
people;  for  the  picturesque  element  has  its  share  in  dramatic 
composition.  Groups  impress  the  audience  partly  by  their 
picture,  as  in  pantomime  or  tableaux;  and  partly  by  their 
energy  or  movement  which  prepares  or  closes  a  situation, 
thus  binding  together  the  common  action  of  the  drama.  In 
plays  that  concern  an  uprising  of  the  people,  or  in  historical 
dramas,  frequent  grouping  of  characters  is  essential.  In 
modern  plays  it  is  customary  to  have  all  the  prominent  charac- 
ters on  the  stage  in  the  closing  scene,  just  before  the  last  fall 
of  the  curtain.  The  final  result  of  the  action  is  thus  more 
clearly  understood,  and  the  picturesque  effect  upon  the  audi- 
ence is  vivid  and  lasting.  It  is  a  vivid  summary  of  the  action, 
having  the  same  office  in  the  drama  that  a  peroration  has  in 
a  speech. 

The  Episode  in  the  Scene. —  An  episode  is  an  interruption 
of  the  action,  or,  as  the  Greeks  term  it,  a  "  standing  still." 
The  episode  concerns  some  element  in  the  piece,  or  it  may  be 
a  mere  interruption1  without  any  reference  to  the  drama.  For 
example,  the  boy  playing  the  harp  for  Brutus  in  his  tent  on 
the  calm  night  before  the  battle  of  Pharsalia.  In  Denman 
Thompson's  "  Old  Homestead,"  the  Salvation  Army  march- 
ing and  playing  before  Grace  Church,  New  York;  in  the 
"  Sign  of  the  Cross,"  the  Pagan  girl's  song  before  Mercia. 


THE  DRAMA 

Shakespeare's  clowns  and  fools  are  introduced  mainly  fo; 
episode  to  give  the  audience  pleasing  moments  of  rest  from 
the  intensity  of  the  action.  The  episode  should  permit  the 
action  to  be  resumed  without  a  jar  to  the  memory  or  the  at- 
tention. Hence,  the  episode  should  be  brief.  But  of  all  these 
elements  in  a  scene,  the  dialogue  is  most  important,  inas- 
much as  it  carries  on  the  action.  The  purpose  of  every  dia- 
logue is  to  bring  into  prominence  from  the  assertions  and 
counter-assertions  a  result  which  impels  the  action  further. 
The  dialogue  stands  for  strife  and  struggle;  in  it  perception 
is  matched  against  perception ;  emotion  against  emotion ;  voli- 
tion against  volition,  and  out  of  this  storm  and  stress  the 
action  grows.  Hence,  as  Schlegel  observes,  "  Dialogue  is  the 
creator  of  Dramatic  action;  for  man  thus  appears  under 
powerful  restraint,  excitement,  or  transformation.  In  the 
dialogue  appear  those  peculiarities  which  bring  men  effectively 
into  conflict  with  other  men,  namely,  force  of  sentiment,  vio- 
lence of  will,  achievement  hindered  through  passionate  desire ; 
in  a  word,  all  the  issues  of  moral  conflict  appear  in  the  dia- 
logue; and  dramatic  action  is  nothing  more  than  a  condensed 
history  of  these  moral  issues." 

The  Painted  Picture  in  Relation  to  the  Scene. —  A  scene 
consists  not  only  of  what  takes  place  in  dialogue,  monologue, 
episode,  but  it  also  consists  of  a  painted  picture,  commonly 
known  as  stage  scenery.  Scenery  plays  a  large  part  in  the 
economy  of  the  modern  drama.  The  first  principle  to  be  ob- 
served in  its  use,  is  laid  down  by  Aristotle :  "  The  scenery 
should  be  organic  with  the  play  and-  should  never  by 
imperfection  destroy  the  illusion."  Imperfections  in  scenery 
arise  in  various  ways:  ist,  by  over-elaboration;  2d,  by  undue 
proportion  in  mechanical  effects;  by  too  much  color  and  im- 
pressiveness. 


THE  FIl'E  ACTS  4x3 

A  Second  Principle.—  Scenery  should  be  subordinate  to  the 
acting;  scenery,  after  all,  is  only  the  background.  Hence,  it 
should  give  the  largest  showing  to  the  human  element.  Poor 
dramas  require  elaborate  scenery  for  support.  The  classic 
drama  needs  but  a  minimum  of  such  assistance.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  too  much  scenic  display  mars  the  action,  divides  and 
distracts  the  attention  of  the  audience.  Moreover,  the  inani- 
mate can  only  have  an  accidental  contact  with  man  in  the  mat- 
ter of  action;  the  pictorial  scene  is  valuable  for  impressions; 
and  it  may  go  a  step  beyond  that  and  "  garnish  a  moment  of 
influence  in  the  progress  of  the  story";  but  it  is  necessarily 
subordinate.  Change  of  scenery  is  demanded  by  the  chang- 
ing environment  of  the  action;  time  and  place  must  be  con- 
sidered in  the  pictorial  scene.  Considerable  skill  and  taste 
may  be  shown  in  this  regard,  so  much  so  that  the  "  pictorial 
staging  of  a  play  "  is  now  considered  a  fine  art. 

The  Act  in  the  Drama. —  Horace  is  the  main  authority  for 
dividing  a  drama  into  five  acts.  In  the  Ars  Poetica  he  writes : 
"  Neve,  minor,  neve  sit  quint o  productior  actu  fabula." — 
"  Let  your  play  consist  of  five  acts,  nor  more,  nor  less."  The 
authority  of  Horace  is  enforced  by  modern  custom  and  prac- 
tice. But  the  five-act  division  is  purely  arbitrary.  "  There 
is  nothing,"  writes  Dr.  Blair,  "  in  the  nature  of  dramatic 
composition  which  fixes  this  number  rather  than  any  other; 
and  it  had  been  much  better  if  no  such  number  had  been  as- 
certained, but  every  play  had  been  allowed  to  divide  itself  into 
as  many  parts  or  intervals  as  the  subject  naturally  pointed 
out."  In  the  Greek  tragedies  at  certain  intervals  the  actor 
retired  and  the  chorus  continued  with  songs;  but  these  inter- 
vals were  extremely  unequal  and  irregular,  sometimes  divid- 
ing the  play  into  three  parts;  sometimes  into  seven  or  eight 
parts.  As  custom  has  now  divided  every  play  into  five  acts, 
it  remains  to  consider  the  especial  office  assigned  to  each  act. 


THE  DRAMA 

The  Special  Office  or  Function  of  the  First  Act.—  The  first 
act  ought  to  contain  a  clear  exposition  of  the  subject.  This 
exposition  Aristotle  calls  the  prologue  of  the  drama.  The 
first  act  ought  to  be  so  managed  as  to  awaken  the  curiosity 
of  the  spectators ;  it  ought  to  furnish  them  with  materials  for 
understanding  the  sequel.  The  first  act  should  make  the  audi- 
ence acquainted  with  the  personages  who  are  to  appear,  with 
their  several  views  and  interests,  and  with  the  situation  of 
affairs  at  the  time  when  the  play  commences.  In  early  times, 
a  single  actor  appeared  and  recited  the  situation  in  a  few 
lines :  for  example,  the  plays  of  ^Eschylus  and  Euripides  began 
in  this  way;  hence,  the  strict  meaning  of  the  word,  prologue, 
corresponding  exactly  to  the  preface  of  a  book.  Now,  the 
situation  appears  and  the  subject  is  made  to  open  itself  by  con- 
versation among  the  first  actors  who  are  brought  upon  the 
stage.  In  other  words,  the  prologue,  formerly  distinct,  be- 
comes a  function  of  the  first  act.  Thus,  for  example,  the  first 
act  of  Macbeth :  it  presents  the  chief  characters  —  Macbeth, 
Lady  Macbeth,  Duncan,  Banquo,  The  Weird  Sisters.  It  pre- 
sents the  exact  situation.  Macbeth  tempted  in  three  ways :  by 
an  ungovernable  ambition ;  by  the  powers  of  evil ;  by  a  heartless 
wife.  The  relations  between  the  chief  actors  are  at  least  in- 
dicated; also  the  lines  along  which  the  play  will  develop.  In 
other  words,  the  situation  of  affairs  is  clearly  set  forth. 
Facts  of  time,  place,  circumstances,  color,  tone,  character  — 
all  furnish  the  basis  of  the  action. 

The  Special  Office  of  the  Second  Act.— As  the  first  act  is 
occupied  with  the  basis  of  the  action,  so  the  second  act  is  de- 
voted to  the  development  of  the  action.  The  action  of  a 
drama  proceeds  from  the  very  outset  toward  a  point  called 
the  climax;  and  from  the  very  outset  should  speed  like  an 
arrow  from  the  string.  This  rapidity  is  gained  in  the  second 
act  by  a  change  from  general  impressions  to  particular  and 


THE  FIFE  ACTS 

specific  ones.  The  first  act  presents  all  the  needful  general 
impressions;  the  second  act  is  devoted  to  a  specific  treatment 
of  the  hero.  For  example,  the  murder  of  Duncan  occupies 
the  whole  of  the  second  act  in  Macbeth.  In  other  words,  the 
hero  does  something  which  keeps  the  attention  and  promises  a 
climax.  The  object  of  the  first  act  is  to  get  the  attention  of 
the  audience;  the  object  of  the  second  act  is  to  hold  the  atten- 
tion, and  the  drama  must  do  this  at  all  hazards.  Hence, 
the  second  act  will  present  the  hero  as  doing  something  which 
keeps  the  audience  in  suspense.  Suspense  as  to  the  issue 
should  remain  in  the  mind  when  the  second  act  closes.  For 
example,  the  murder  of  Duncan  and  the  flight  of  his  sons : 
will  Macbeth  succeed  to  the  throne?  will  the  sons  of  Duncan 
return  and  be  revenged  ?  Suspense  as  to  the  outcome  always 
heightens  the  •  interest.  Hence,  the  second  act  presents  what 
is  called  a  situation.  A  situation  is  the  state  of  persons  in  a 
scene  with  regard  to  others.  In  a  sense,  all  scenes  are  situ- 
ations, but  the  technical  meaning  is  confined  to  points  of 
special  interest  where  expectation  is  peculiarly  alert  as  to  what 
the  characters  will  say  and  do.  The  second  act  is  called  by 
critics  the  act  of  ascent  owing  to  the  rising  movement  of  the 
action.  And  while  it  advances  the  hero  toward  the  climax, 
it  has  another  function  to  perform :  it  introduces  the  counter- 
play.  By  counter-play  is  meant  the  action  of  those  characters 
opposed  to  the  hero.  Such  action  begins  at  the  close  of  the 
second  act.  For  example,  in  Macbeth  the  flight  of  Duncan's 
sons  into  England  and  Ireland,  which  is  the  basis  of  the 
counter-movement  against  the  hero.  The  complications  re- 
sulting from  the  counter-play  prolong  the  suspense  and  give 
a  necessary  delay  to  the  action,  which  otherwise  too  direct, 
would  bring  the  drama  too  quickly  to  an  end. 

The  Third  Act  in  the  Drama. —  The  function  of  the  third 
act  is  to  present  the  climax.     By  climax  in  a  drama  is  meant 


THE  DRAMA 

the  highest  point  in  the  ascending  scale  of  dramatic  action. 
Dramatic  action  is  compared  to  a  pyramid  in  its  rise  and  fall. 
On  the  one  side  it  mounts  to  the  apex  which  is  called  the 
climax  of  the  action;  thence  it  falls  on  the  other  side  to  the 
base  which  is  called  the  catastrophe.  The  third  act  is  held  to 
be  most  important  inasmuch  as  it  presents  the  hero  at  the 
height  of  his  success  and  at  the  same  time  on  the  threshold 
of  his  reverses.  It  is  not  necessarily  the  act  that  excites  great- 
est sympathy ;  for  the  catastrophe  as  a  rule  stirs  deeper  emotion. 
It  simply  indicates  that  the  hero  or  figure  of  chief  interest 
has  reached  a  decisive  moment  in  his  career.  For  example, 
in  Macbeth,  when  Banquo  is  slain  and  his  son  escapes. 
Here  Macbeth  has  reached  the  culminating  point  in  his  suc- 
cesses and  is  on  the  threshold  of  reverses.  Hence,  the  climax 
in  the  third  act  is  called  the  turning  point  of  dramatic  action. 
Suspense  continues,  for  the  solution  is  not  yet  in  sight,  though 
dimly  indicated ;  but  expectation  is  quickened ;  for  the  chief 
character  or  hero  is  in  the  supreme  crisis  of  the  drama;  he  is 
placed  in  a  position  of  peril.  As  the  climax  presents  the  re- 
sults of  the  rising  movement ;  as  all  that  preceded  finds  therein 
a  crowning  point,  the  poet  needs  to  use  all  the  splendor  of 
poetry  and  all  the  skill  of  dramatic  art,  in  order  to  make 
vividly  conspicuous  this  middle  or  turning  point  of  his  artistic 
creation.  For  example,  the  banquet  scene  in  Macbeth  —  the 
murderer's  struggle  with  the  ghost,  the  fearful  struggles  with 
his  own  conscience,  the  social  festivity  and  royal  splendor  — 
all  are  pictured  with  the  finest  art  of  Shakespeare 

The  Fourth  Act  in  the  Drama.— The  special  office  of  the 
fourth  act  is  to  present  the  return  of  the  action ;  hence,  it  lies 
between  the  climax  and  the  catastrophe,  between  the  apex  and 
the  base  of  the  dramatic  pyramid.  As  the  second  act  repre- 
sents the  ascent  of  the  action ;  so  the  fourth  act  represents  the 
descent.  The  second  and  third  acts  are  filled  with  obstacles 


THE  FIVE  ACTS 

and  entanglements;  the  fourth  opens  a  solution.  Up  to  the 
climax  of  the  drama,  the  hero,  as  a  rule,  appears  in  a  desire 
working  from  within  outward,  changing  by  his  own  force 
the  life-relations  in  which  he  came  upon  the  stage.  From 
the  climax  on,  what  the  hero  has  done  reacts  upon  himself 
and  gains  power  over  him.  The  external  world  which  he 
fought  in  the  ascent  of  the  action,  now  stands  in  the  strife 
above  him.  And  this  adverse  influence  becomes  continually 
more  powerful  and  victorious  until  at  last  in  the  final  catas- 
trophe it  compels  the  hero  to  yield  to  its  irresistible  force. 
The  gradual  fall  of  the  hero,  called  technically,  the  return  of 
the  action,  is  exemplified  in  Macbeth,  fourth  act.  What  the 
royal  murderer  has  done  reacts  upon  himself.  First,  the 
witches  show  a  long  line  of  future  kings  —  Banquo's  descend- 
ants; thereby  foreshadowing  Macbeth's  defeated  purpose  in 
slaying  Banquo.  Secondly,  Macduff  escapes  to  England, 
forms  an  alliance  with  Malcolm  for  the  overthrow  of  Mac- 
beth ;  thereby  completing  the  counter-play  against  the  hero. 
In  this  alliance  the  murder  of  Duncan  reacts  upon  the  hero, 
threatening  to  overwhelm  him.  Thus  the  fourth  act  in  every 
drama  is  occupied  with  the  fatal  consequences  of  the  hero's 
deeds. 

The  Special  Office  of  the  Fifth  Act. — The  fifth  act  com- 
pletes the  drama.  It  presents  the  last  stage  of  the  falling 
action.  The  conditions  of  the  plot  are  about  to  be  fulfilled. 
There  are  suggestions  of  finality  in  the  words  and  deeds  of 
the  characters.  Vigor,  intensity,  interest,  surprise,  still  con- 
tinue, but  the  horizon  closes  down.  For  example,  when  Lady 
Macbeth  walks  in  her  sleep  and  reveals  her  madness  we  know 
that  the  springs  of  action  in  the  play,  at  least  from  this  side, 
are  available  no  more.  One  by  one,  the  hopes  of  Macbeth, 
based  on  prophecy,  are  destroyed.  In  the  fifth  act,  movement 
is  more  rapid  than  in  any  part  of  the  play :  details,  as  far  as 


4i  8  THE  DRAMA 

possible,  are  omitted.  There  is  no  broad  elaboration  of 
scenes.  The  fifth  act  presents  the  catastrophe  or  what  the 
ancients  called  the  exodus.  It  is,  briefly,  an  important  deed 
overcoming  the  hero  and  closing  the  action.  Through  this 
deed  the  chief  characters  of  the  drama  are  relieved  from 
trouble.  For  example,  the  battle  between  Macbeth  and  Mac- 
duff  in  the  fifth  act.  The  external  world  which  the  hero 
conquered,  deals  a  death-blow  in  the  catastrophe;  whence 
conies  the  term  tragedy.  The  catastrophe  is,  as  regards  liter- 
ary form,  brief,  simple,  free  from  ornament.  The  dramatic 
artist  aims  solely  at  being  impressive.  Hence,  the  brief  scenes 
pulsate  with  life.  For  rapid  and  skilful  handling  of  the 
catastrophe  there  is  no  better  example  than  the  closing  scenes 
of  Macbeth.  But  however  sudden,  and  even  in  manner  of 
accomplishment,  surprising,  may  be  the  catastrophe,  it  should 
not  be  unprepared,  but  like  every  other  part  of  the  action, 
should  preserve  its  organic  connection  with  the  whole.  Sud- 
den suicides  which  terminate  so  many  tragedies,  and  the  pa- 
ternal blessings  which  close  an  equal  number  of  comedies, 
should  be  something  more  than  a  signal  for  the  fall  of  the 
curtain ;  they  should  be  a  logical  outgrowth  and  natural  close 
of  the  drama.  The  end  of  the  play  must  be  organic;  that  is, 
it  must  be  in  proportion  with  cause  and  effect ;  it  should  afford 
a  commanding  point  where  the  whole  action  may  be  recalled ; 
the  interest  and  curiosity  of  the  audience  must  be  fully  satis- 
fied. 


CHAPTER  XLVI 
CHARACTERS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

The  Characters.—  The  action  of  a  drama,  divided  into  scenes 
and  acts,  is  carried  on  by  means  of  characters;  these  charac- 
ters are  called  dramatis  personae.  The  dramatic  artist  must 
create  these  characters;  and  in  so  doing  must  justify  the 
claim  of  the  drama  that  it  holds  the  mirror  up  to  nature.  As 
an  artist,  he  will  give  to  his  characters  those  general  traits 
and  dispositions  which  make  them  natural  and  human.  Sec- 
ondly, he  will  clothe  them  with  specific  traits  which  individ- 
ualize each  one.  His  art  is  tested  chiefly  in  this  regard;  to 
individualize  his  creations,  distinguishing  by  happy  strokes 
the  one  from  the  other.  The.  inventive  power  of  the  poet 
is  taxed  in  producing  the  artistic  appearance  of  a  rich  indi- 
vidual life;  because  he  puts  together  a  few  vital  expressions 
in  such  a  manner  that  the  person,  understood  and  felt  by  him, 
is  intelligible  to  the  audience  as  a  characteristic  being.  The 
artist  can  present  only  single  strokes;  out  of  these  the  audi- 
ence or  the  reader  must  picture  the  fullness  of  characteristic 
life.  This  is  made  possible  by  the  suggestive  power  of  the 
artist;  just  as  a  few  lines  drawn  on  a  canvas  by  a  skilful  hand 
bring  out  the  form  of  a  human  countenance;  so  a  few  words 
skilfully  used  on  the  literary  canvas  may  sharply  define  any 
character  in  a  drama.  This  suggestive  power,  in  order  to 
accomplish  its  purpose,  implies  the  active  co-operation  of  the 
audience.  The  imagination  of  the  audience  must  be  at  work 
upon  the  suggestions  given. 

Three  Underlying  Principles. —  However  the  method  and 
scope  of  characterization  may  vary  under  the  influence  of 

419 


420  THE  DRAMA 

different  historical  epochs  and  different  tendencies  and  tastes 
of  races  or  nations,  there  are  three  principles  underlying  this 
branch  of  dramatic  art.  The  first  principle :  the  character 
in  a  drama  must  have  distinctiveness.  Whatever  its  part  in 
the  action,  it  must  be  sufficiently  marked  in  its  distinctive  fea- 
tures to  interest  the  audience.  This  is  particularly  true  of  the 
leading  characters;  and  even  the  lesser  characters  should  have 
distinctive  and  distinguishing  traits.  As  in  real  life  so  in 
dramatic  art,  individual  and  personal  traits  ought  to  be  suffi- 
ciently-pronounced to  awaken  interest,  and  furnish  a  distinct 
type.  The  second  principle:  besides  impressing  the  imagi- 
nation with  distinctness,  each  character  must  be  consistent 
with  itself;  this  consistency  must  appear  between  its  con- 
duct in  the  action  and  the  features  it  has  established  as  its 
own.  In  order  to  secure  this  result,  the  dramatic  artist  will 
first  have  distinctly  conceived  the  character;  and  his  con- 
ception expressed  in  the  growth  and  progress  of  the  play,  will 
determine  the  totality  of  the  character  he  creates.  If  it  be  a 
historical  personage,  the  character  in  the  drama  should  har- 
monize, as  far  as  possible,  with  the  character  established  by 
the  facts  of  history.  But  while  the  creative  artist  is  permitted 
to  modify  the  historic  character,  he  is  obliged  to  present  his 
own  character  creation  as  consistent  from  the  first  act  to  the 
last.  For  example,  Shakespeare  could  not  introduce  Macbeth 
as  a  courageous  man ;  and  in  the  last  act  show  him  to  be  a 
coward.  A  character  may  be  complex  and  at  the  same. time 
consistent  with  itself;  that  is,  it  may  exhibit  good  and  evil 
traits,  as  men  in  real  life  exhibit  them;  but  consistency  de- 
mands that  these  traits,  once  emphasized,  be  carried  through 
the  drama.  The  third  principle:  a  character  should  be  di- 
rectly effective  with  regard  to  the  dramatic  action  in  which 
it  takes  part;  that  is  to  say,  the  influence  it  exerts  upon  the 
progress  of  the  action,  should  correspond  to  its  distinctive 
features  —  in  other  words,  the  conduct  of  the  play  should  al- 


THE  CHARACTERS  42I 

ways  spring  from  the  nature  of  the  characters.  Hence,  even 
the  minor  characters  should  not  idly  intervene ;  their  conduct 
should  be  significant,  vitally  related  to  the  action.  The  only 
exception  to  this  rule  is  the  episode  which  may  be  detached 
from  the  action,  placed  as  it  were,  in  parenthesis  as  a  breath- 
ing space  for  actors  and  audience.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
chief  characters  should  determine  the  course  of  the  action 
which  should  harmonize  with  their  distinctive  traits  and  fea- 
tures. Chance  is  thereby  excluded  from  dramatic  action,  in- 
asmuch as  it  flows  naturally  from  the  characters.  Whatever 
is  said  or  done  in  the  drama  springs  as  naturally  from  the 
characters  as  the  herb  from  the  earth  or  light  from  the  sun. 
For  example,  given  the  character  of  Macbeth  or  his  wife,  and 
we  may  naturally  expect  murders.  However  the  method  and 
scope  of  characterization  may  vary  among  different  races  or 
in  different  historical  epochs,  these  principles  : — distinctiveness, 
self-consistency,  effectiveness, —  always  and  everywhere  apply 
to  character-drawing. 

Characters   Most   Suitable   and   Proper   for   the    Drama. — 

Aristotle  furnishes  two  rules  respecting  the  selection  of  char- 
acters. First,  as  to  external  dignity;  the  chief  characters  of 
a  drama,  like  those  of  the  epic,  should  be  illustrious,  of  high 
rank,  thereby  dignifying  the  action  of  the  drama,  and  giving 
it  magnitude;  but  as  the  drama  is  a  mirror  of  life,  all  ranks 
and  conditions  ought  to  be  represented,  omitting,  of  course, 
the  most  degrading  and  mean  circumstances.  The  second 
rule,  as  to  morals;  the  persons  represented  should  be  mixed 
characters,  in  which  good  and  evil  traits  are  found,  such 
in  fact  as  we  meet  in  the  world :  they  afford  the  most  proper 
field  for  displaying  without  any  bad  effect  on  morals,  the 
vicissitudes  of  life.  They  interest  us  most  deeply,  as  they 
display  emotions  and  passions  which  we  have  all  been  con- 
scious of.  Human  nature  in  .its.  strength  and  weakness  is 


THE  DRAMA 

thus  presented  as  found  in  actual  life.  On  the  other  hand, 
perfectly  unmixed  characters  either  of  good  or  ill  men  are 
not  the  fittest;  for  the  distress  of  the  one,  being  wholly  un- 
merited, hurts  and  shocks  us ;  and  the  sufferings  of  the  other 
excite  no  pity.  The  dramatic  artist  should  so  introduce  his 
personages,  and  the  incidents  relating  to  them,  as  to  leave 
upon  the  audience  impressions  favorable  to  virtue  and  to 
the  administration  of  Providence.  The  drama  should  excite 
pity  for  the  virtuous  in  distress.  Under  no  conditions  is 
the  dramatic  artist  permitted  to  exhibit  human  life  so  as  to 
render  virtue  an  object  of  aversion.  If  innocent  persons  suf- 
fer, their  sufferings  ought  to  be  attended  with  such  circum- 
stances as  will  make  virtue  appear  amiable  and  admirable. 

The  Chief  Character  of  the  Drama.— The  drama  should 
have  only  one  chief  character  or  hero,  about  whom  all  the 
the  persons,  however  great  their  manner,  arrange  themselves. 
Hence,  the  drama  is  thoroughly  monarchical  in  arrangement; 
the  unity  of  its  action  depends  essentially  upon  this  fact, 
that  the  action  is  controlled  by  one  dominant  character.  The 
interest  of  the  audience  must  be  directed  for  the  most  part 
toward  one  person.  The  highest  dramatic  processes  of  but 
few  persons  can  be  elaborated  in  a  single  drama ;  and  of  these 
few  the  audience  should  not  be  left  in  doubt  as  to  the  most 
important  person.  One  exception  to  this  rule  is  permitted 
when  the  relations  of  two  lovers  form  the  material  and  plot 
of  the  drama,  these  persons  are  looked  upon  as  enjoying 
equal  privileges;  and  are  treated  as  a  unit  in  leading  and 
controlling  the  action.  Hence,  we  have  dramas  called  "  Romeo 
and  Juliet " ;  "  Troilus  and  Cressida  " ;  "  Anthony  and  Cleo- 
patra." With  this  exception,  dramatic  unity  demands  a  single 
hero,  as  the  leading  character.  The  scenes  at  the  beginning 
of  the  drama,  giving  color  to  the  whole  piece,  should  also 
give  the  moral  fibre  of  the  hero.  Shakespeare  manages  his 


THE  CHARACTERS 

heroes  with  wonderful  skill.  Before  his  heroes  are  entangled 
in  the  difficulties  of  a  tragic  action,  he  allows  them  to  express 
the  trend  of  their  character,  so  that  the  audience  may  know 
distinctly  what  is  to  follow.  For  example,  Hamlet,  Othello, 
Macbeth,  Brutus,  Richard  III,  Caesar. 

Subordinate  Characters. —  Besides  being  distinct,  self-con- 
sistent and  effective,  the  subordinate  characters  should  present 
a  variety  and  contrast  to  the  audience;  because  dramatic 
action  relies  chiefly  upon  contrast  for  its  development;  the 
weak  will  must  clash  with  the  strong  one;  virtue  must  battle 
with  vice;  one  social  rank  must  cross  swords  with  another, 
as  happens  in  actual  life.  The  intermingling  of  races  and 
creeds  in  modern  life  gives  the  widest  scope  to  the  dramatic 
artist,  adding  the  clash  of  nationalities  and  religions.  Less- 
ing  calls  this  contrast  of  character  the  soul  of  the  modern 
drama;  and  his  remark  is  equally  applicable  to  the  drama  of 
the  ancients. 

Revelation  of  Character. —  Every  person  in  the  drama, 
whether  chief  or  subordinate,  should  show  the  fundamental 
traits  of  his  or  her  character,  as  distinctly,  as  quickly  and  as 
attractively  as  possible.  The  dramatic  artist  has  no  place 
for  a  hidden  character  howsoever  subordinate.  His  skill  lies 
exclusively  in  the  revelation  of  those  traits  and  features  which 
make  character  what  it  is  —  a  moral  engraving,  the  imprint 
and  impress  of  a  life-struggle  upon  an  inherited  moral  individ- 
uality. Beyond  these  rules  which  have  an  universal  applica- 
tion, no  general  law  can  be  laid  down  respecting  the  manners, 
speech,  costume,  of  persons  in  the  drama;  inasmuch  as  these 
accidents  are  regulated  by  place  and  time,  the  particular 
customs  of  different  countries. 

Forms  of  the  Drama. —  The  drama  is  divided  into  two 
forms,  according  as  it  is  employed  upon  the  light  and  gay  or 


424  THE  DRAMA 

upon  the  grave  and  affecting  incidents  of  human  life.  The 
one  is  called  comedy;  the  other,  tragedy.  Tragedy  embraces 
the  high  passions,  the  virtues,  crimes  and  sufferings  of  men; 
comedy  tells  of  their  humors,  follies  and  pleasures.  Tragedy 
is  the  highest  form  of  literary  art,  inasmuch  as  it  exhibits 
human  life  under  the  strongest  emotion  and  under  the  most 
trying  and  critical  situations ;  thereby  demanding  all  the  wealth 
of  expression  and  the  profoundest  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart.  It  ranks  higher  than  the  epic,  because  the  epic  exhibits 
human  character  by  narrations  and  descriptions  of  the  poet ; 
whereas  tragedy  sets  the  personages  themselves  before  us, 
as  living  and  speaking. 

The  Aim  of  Tragedy. —  Aristotle  defines  the  aim  of  tragedy 
as  the  purging  and  purifying  of  our  passions  by  means  of  pity 
and  terror.  Dr.  Blair  interprets  this  to  mean  that  tragedy 
is  intended  to  improve  our  virtuous  sensibilities ;  to  make  men 
more  sensible  to  virtue.  The  purpose  of  tragedy  is  accom- 
plished when  we  are  interested  in  behalf  of  virtue;  when  we 
are  moved  to  compassion  for  the  distressed;  when  we 
are  led  to  guard  against  errors  in  our  own  conduct,  by  seeing 
their  consequences  in  the  lives  of  other  men.  Tragedy  is 
thus  a  great  moral  force  —  a  literary  power  making  for  right- 
eousness. 

Origin  of  Tragedy. —  The  word  tragedy  comes  from  the 
Greek  tragos,  signifying  a  goat,  and  ode,  a  song.  The  origin 
of  tragedy  was  none  other  than  the  song  sung  at  the  festival 
of  Bacchus  when  a  goat  was  offered  in  sacrifice.  After  the 
sacrifice  the  priests  sang  hymns  or  lyric  poems ;  these  hymns 
were  sung  sometimes  by  the  whole  company,  sometimes  by 
separate  bands  answering  alternately  to  each  other;  making 
what  we  call  a  chorus  with  its  strophe  and  antistrophe.  In 
order  to  throw  some  variety  into  this  entertainment  and  to 


425 

relieve  the  singers,  a  person  was  introduced  who,  between  the 
songs,  should  give  a  recitation.  Thespis,  who  lived  aBout 
536  years  before  the  Christian  era,  made  this  innovation ;  and, 
as  it  met  with  approval,  ^schylus,  who  came  50  years  after 
him,  and  who  is  properly  the  father  of  tragedy,  went  a  step 
farther,  introduced  a  dialogue  between  two  persons  or  actors, 
in  which  he  contrived  to  interweave  some  interesting  story 
and  brought  his  actors  on  a  stage  adorned  with  proper  scenery 
and  decorations.  All  that  these  actors  recited  was  called  epi- 
sodes or  additional  song.  The  songs  of  the  chorus  were  made 
to  relate  no  longer  to  Bacchus,  their  original  subject,  but  to 
the  story  in  which  the  actors  were  concerned.  This  began  to 
give  the  drama  a  regular  form,  which  was  soon  after  brought 
to  perfection  by  Sophocles  and  Euripides.  It  is  remarkable 
in  how  short  a  space  of  time  tragedy  grew  up  among  the 
Greeks,  from  its  rudest  beginnings  to  its  most  perfect  state. 
For  Sophocles,  the  greatest  and  most  correct  of  all  the  tragic 
poets  flourished  only  seventy  years  after  Thespis.  The  chorus 
was  the  foundation  of  the  ancient  tragedy.  It  was  not  an  orna- 
ment added  to  it,  or  a  contrivance  designed  to  render  it  more 
perfect.  It  was  the  original  entertainment  to  which  the  dra- 
matic dialogue  was  an  addition.  In  process  of  time  the 
chorus,  from  being  the  principal,  became  a  mere  accident  of 
the  tragedy,  until  at  last  in  the  modern  tragedy  the  chorus  has 
disappeared  altogether.  All  there  is  to  remind  one  of  the 
chorus  in  a  modern  theatre,  is  the  orchestra  before  the  foot- 
lights. 

Recitations. —  The  recitations  introduced  were  of  an  epic 
character,  parts  of  the  Iliad,  or  epic  poems  relating  to  the  gods 
and  the  Greek  heroes.  The  Greeks  employed  bands  of  wan- 
dering minstrels  at  their  feasts  of  Bacchus,  to  recite  their  epic 
pieces,  just  as  Shakespeare  and  his  strolling  players  were  em- 
ployed at  the  court  of  Elizabeth  or  James.  These  declaimers 


426  THE  DRAMA 

were  called  rhapsodes.  They  exercised  their  art  in 
emulation;  by  long  recitation  they  strove  to  tire  each  other 
down.  Out  of  this  emulation  came  the  dialogue.  Thus  we 
have  the  epic  element  presented  by  the  rhapsodes  and  the 
lyric  element  by  the  chanting  priests  of  Bacchus,  who  were 
called  the  chorus.  The  chorus  and  the  rhapsodes  alternated 
in  the  divisions  of  the  work,  called  strophe  and  antistrophe. 
Thespis  (535  B.  C.)  made  a  change;  he  introduced  an  actor 
chosen  from  the  rhapsodes.  This  actor,  instead  of  merely 
alternating  his  recitations  with  the  song  of  the  chorus,  carried 
on  a  dialogue  with  its  leader.  The  chorus  stood  round  its 
leader,  upon  the  steps  of  the  Bacchic  altar.  The  actor  himself 
stood  on  a  table  near  by  and  wearing  a  mask,  personated 
some  deity  or  hero.  Thus,  the  epic  element  changed  to  the 
tragic.  yEschylus  introduced  a  second  actor,  and  cut  down 
the  functions  of  the  chorus.  Sophocles  added  a  third  actor, 
and  the  preponderance  of  the  dialogue  was  made  complete. 
The  actor  introduced  by  Thespis  played  in  turn  the  part  of 
all  the  prominent  figures  in  the  legend,  from  gods  and  kings 
down  to  heralds  and  messengers.  He  counterfeited  their  ap- 
pearance, spoke  their  sentiments,  exhibited  their  passions.  Af- 
terwards, when  two  or  three  actors  were  introduced,  the  vital 
elements  of  all  tragic  performance  were  present  —  namely,  im- 
personation and  dialogue  —  and  tragedy  became  distinguished 
as  a  new  art.  Thespis  separated  tragedy  from  the  function 
of  religious  worship ;  he  exhibited  tragedies  in  Athens  dealing 
with  Greek  history  and  mythology.  The  actors  gradually 
changed  places  with  the  chorus ;  the  steps  of  the  Bacchic  altar 
were  transformed  into  a  stage.  The  chorus  and  its  leader 
were  relegated  to  the  footlights  where  now,  in  the  form  of 
a  rudimentary  organ,  they  furnish  music  while  the  curtain 
is  down.  Here  a  question  arises,  Has  the  drama  gained  or 
lost  by  the  abolition  of  the  chorus?  Dr.  Blair  observes  in 
reply :  "  It  must  be  admitted  that  the  chorus  tended  to  render 


TRAGEDY 

more  magnificent,  more  instructive  and  more  moral." 
Carried  on  by  singing  and  accompanied  by  music,  the  chorus 
n«>.  doubt  diversified  the  entertainment  greatly,  and  added  to 
its  splendor.  But  these  advantages  were  outweighed  by  such 
difficulties  as  render  the  exclusion  of  the  chorus  from  modern 
plays  almost  imperative.  Private  transactions,  plots  and 
schemes  of  confederates,  must  go  on  at  times ;  hence,  the 
scenery  demanded  excludes  the  old-time  chorus  which  always 
occupied  the  stage.  Again,  the  tragic  drama  is  a  natural  and 
probable  imitation  of  human  life ;  hence,  no  persons  should  ap- 
pear, save  those  necessary  to  the  action ;  any  others  are  unnat- 
ural and  improbable.  Moreover,  the  mixture  of  music  and  song 
with  the  dialogue  of  the  actors  is  an  unnatural  circumstance, 
destroying  resemblance  to  actual  life.  It  was  warranted  some- 
what by  the  ritual  of  Bacchus  and  the  pastoral  life  of  Greece, 
but  it  has  no  resemblance  to  the  real  life  of  today.  "  One  use," 
says  Dr.  Blair,  "  might  still  be  made  ,of  the  ancient  chorus, 
and  it  would  be  a  considerable  improvement  to  the  modern 
theatre.  While  the  curtain  is  down  between  the  acts,  the 
chorus  might  be  introduced,  whose  music  and  songs  should 
have  a  relation  to  the  incidents  of  the  preceding  act,  and  to  the 
disposition  which  those  incidents  are  presumed  to  have  awak- 
ened in  the  audience.  By  this  means  the  tone  of  passion 
would  be  kept  up,  and  all  the  good  effects  of  the  ancient  chorus 
preserved,  whereas  our  modern  orchestra  strikes  a  foreign 
and  discordant  note;  and  as  a  rule  the  musical  selections  have 
no  relation  whatever  to  the  play  in  progress." 

Growth  of  the  Dialogue. —  With  the  decline  of  the  chorus 
the  dialogue  came  more  and  more  into  prominence.  In  the 
Thespian  drama  it  had  a  prominent  part ;  but  consisted  of  long 
narratives  and  had  little  resemblance  to  conversation  in  real 
life.  -^Eschylus  corrected  this  artistic  error:  he  made  the 
dialogue  vivid  and  lively;  to  give  more  life  he  introduced  a 


42g  THE  DRAMA 

second  actor ;  thus  drawing  the  attention  of  the  audience  from 
the  songs  of  the  chorus  to  the  spoken  and  acted  parts  of  the 
play.  The  variety  and  vividness  of  the  dialogue  was  still 
further  increased  by  Sophocles  who  introduced  a  third  actor. 
The  unnatural  conversations  between  actor  and  chorus  were 
set  aside ;  and  the  choral  odes  were  treated  as  so  many  resting- 
places  in'  the  dialogue.  With  the  addition  of  a  third  actor, 
Sophocles  made  the  dialogue  embrace  a  greater  complexity 
of  incidents  and  exhibit  a  more  varied  play  of  character.  He 
brought  the  three  actors  simultaneously  upon  the  stage  in  a 
manner  suggestive  of  the  group-scenes  in  the  modern  drama, 
thereby  increasing  the  effect.  The  dialogue  of  Greek  tragedy 
differs  from  that  of  the  modern  drama  in  two  important  points. 
First,  and  especially,  in  the  greater  prominence  which  it  as- 
signs to  narrative,  a  prominence  due  partly  to  the  epic  element 
in  its  origin;  partly  to  the  refinement  of  Greek  feeling  which 
preferred  the  narrative  to  the  actual  exhibition  of  deeds  of 
blood  and  violence ;  and  partly  to  the  in  frequency  of  soliloquies 
and  asides  which  were  impossible  owing  to  the  presence  of  the 
chorus.  The  dialogue  of  the  Greek  tragedy  varied  in  length 
from  the  modern  drama,  sometimes  embracing  forty  lines, 
sometimes  four  or  five  hundred  lines.  As  a  rule  its  parts  were 
longer  and  exhibited  less  passion  than  the  modern  dialogue. 

Characters  of  Greek  Tragedy. —  In  the  development  of 
Greek  tragedy  ^schylus,  Sophocles  and  Euripides  represented 
characters  after  an  ideal  fashion.  In  delineating  the  charac- 
ters of  heroes,  their  aim  was  not  like  Shakespeare  to  hold  the 
mirror  up  to  nature,  but  to  people  their  stage  with  heroes  of 
ideal  strength  and  grandeur;  and  the  force  of  their  genius 
is  no  where  more  apparent  than  in  the  success  with  which 
they  accomplished  their  task.  They  elevated  the  minds  of 
the  audience  by  a  majestic  picture  of  the  heroic  world.  The 
gods  and  heroes  of  their  tragedies  are  the  offspring  of  a. 


1 

heroic  age.  Superhuman  strength,  courage,  iron  will  and  iron 
endurance  are  their  characteristic  qualities.  They  have  none 
of  the  frailties  and  weaknesses  of  human  beings.  No  force 
can  bend  them  nor  tender  motive  allure  them  from  their 
course.  For  example,  Prometheus,  Clytemnestra.  In  con- 
trast with  the  heroes,  the  lesser  characters  exhibit  the  weak- 
nesses and  frailties  of  humankind.  For  example,  the  nymphs 
in  Prometheus ;  the  maidens  in  the  Septem.  Female  characters 
played  an  unimportant  part,  especially  in  the  earlier  tragedies, 
for  the  tender  passions  were  touched  but  slightly.  Arms 
and  the  hero  were  the  favorite  themes;  the  heroism  sung  in 
the  epic  was  impersonated  in  the  tragedy. 

General  Characteristics  of  Greek  Tragedy. —  With  the  rise 
of  tragedy,  the  poetry  of  Greece  completed  the  natural  process 
of  its  evolution.  From  the  epic,  tragedy  derived  its  legen- 
dary subjects  and  its  graceful  and  majestic  measure.  From 
lyric  poetry  it  inherited  a  wealth  of  metrical  forms  and  a 
splendor  of  diction  which  were  capable  of  expressing  every 
shade  of  feeling  and  passion.  The  new  art  in  turn  trans- 
formed the  material  of  the  epic,  giving  it  a  more  brilliant 
and  impressive  shape.  The  serene  and  leisurely  narrative 
of  the  epic  was  intensified  into  an  action  rapid,  concise,  trans- 
acted before  the  very  eyes  of  the  audience/  The  narrow  and 
personal  interests  of  the  old  lyric  were  exchanged  for  medita- 
tions of  deeper  moment,  the  great  principles  and  eternal  prob- 
lems of  the  universe.  The  result  was  a  new  art  surpassing 
all  previous  work  in  vividness  of  effect  and  in  profound 
earnestness  of  moral  feeling.  The  general  characteristics  of 
the  Greek  tragedy  as  thus  evolved  are  four  in  number.  First, 
ethical  elevation  of  tone  and  purpose.  The  tone  of  the  Greek 
tragedy  is  essentially  meditative  and  religious,  A  vein  of 
earnest  thoughtfulness  runs  through  it.  The  chief  actors 
meditate  upon  the  dark  mystery  of  existence,  the  ways  of 


430  THE  DRAMA 

Providence,  the  destiny  of  mankind,  much  after  the  fashion 
of  Hamlet.  The  modern  tragedy  seldom  rises  to  the  same 
level  of  impressiveness.  The  second  characteristic  of  Greek 
tragedy  is  a  graceful  harmony  of  form  and  structure  which 
has  never  been  surpassed.  Beauty,  no  less  than  truth  and 
impressiveness,  was  the  constant  aim  of  the  ancient  tragic 
writers.  The  influence  of  a  keenly  developed  aesthetic  sense 
appeared  in  every  part  of  their  work,  in  choice  of  subjects 
as  well  as  in  mode  of  treatment.  Scenes  are  laid  before  stately 
palaces  and  temples  of  the  gods.  Plots  are  invested  with  the 
charm  of  romance  and  legend,  graceful  movement,  gorgeous 
dress,  princely  language  and  bearing  —  the  commonplace 
raised  into  a  region  of  ideal  splendor;  over  all  is  the  air  of 
a  lofty  and  exalted  idealism.  A  third  characteristic :  the  sim- 
plicity and  lucid  clearness  of  the  plot.  Everything  tending 
to  confuse  or  divert  the  mind,  is  carefully  excluded.  The  ac- 
tion is  brief,  straightforward,  concentrated,  as  it  should  be,  on 
a  single  point.  Characters  are  few  in  number,  only  three  at 
most  appearing  at  the  same  time.  This  severe  and  lucid  form 
of  the  Greek  tragedy  makes  a  sharp  contrast  with  the  modern 
play,  which  is  more  involved  and  obscure,  requiring  at  times 
considerable  effort  on  the  part  of  the  audience  to  unravel  and 
understand  it.  A  fourth  characteristic :  the  delicate  treat- 
ment of  those  deeds  of  physical  horror  and  atrocity  which 
form  the  catastrophe  of  most  tragedies.  Such  deeds  must 
either  be  exhibited  before  the  eyes  of  the  spectators  or  enacted 
behind  the  scenes  and  revealed  by  narrative.  The  Greeks 
preferred  the  latter  method.  Scenes  of  active  violence  and 
brutal  murder  such  as  the  Elizabethan  dramatists  delighted 
to  exhibit,  were  rarely  shown  upon  the  Greek  stage.  Only 
two  examples  can  be  found  in  the  extant  Greek  plays :  that 
of  Ajax  in  Sophocles,  and  Evadne  in  Euripides.  The  reason 
for  their  exclusion  was  a  refinement  and  delicacy  which  re- 
garded the  actual  commission  of  such  -atrocities  as  a  sight 


GREEK  TRAGEDY  43! 

too  terrible  for  the  feelings  of  the  audience.  The  Greek  tra- 
gedy exhibiting  these  four  general  characteristics,  ethical  gran- 
deur of  tone,  graceful  harmony  of  form,  clearness  of  plot, 
and  delicacy  of  treatment,  assumed,  as  was  natural,  a  some- 
what different  aspect  in  the  hands  of  the  three  greatest  artists. 
In  yEschylus  the  grandeur  and  religious  depth  of  the  concq>- 
tion  were  more  conspicuous  than  artistic  form.  In  Euripides 
the  moral  impressiveness  and  ideal  beauty  of  the  older  drama 
give  place  to  a  more  secular  tone  and  a  more  realistic  manner 
of  treatment.  Plots  became  more  complex;  music,  as  in  the 
modern  opera,  began  to  encroach  upon  the  sense  and  the 
poetry.  It  was  only  in  Sophocles  that  the  various  elements 
of  classical  tragedy  —  moral  inspiration,  simplicity,  ideal 
beauty  —  were  blended  together.  Hence,  Sophocles,  though 
excelled  in  some  respects  by  ^Eschylus  and  Euripides,  has 
justly  been  regarded  as  the  typical  representative  of  Greek 
tragedy  in  its  highest  perfection.  Tragedy  completed  its  evo- 
lution in  Sophocles ;  it  has  not  been  improved  or  vitally  modi- 
fied since  his  day.  Roman,  French  and  English  tragedy  are 
simply  imitation  with  some  accidental  modifications  peculiar 
to  these  races. 


CHAPTER  XLVII 
ETHICS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

The  Ethical  Side. —  The  drama  may  be  viewed  from  an 
ethical  as  well  as  an  aesthetic  standpoint.  As  a  work  of  art. 
it  appeals  to  the  aesthetic  sense,  and  forms  a  separate  depart 
ment  of  literature.  As  a  work  involving  the  operations  of 
the  human  will,  it  belongs  to  the  department  of  Ethics.  It 
is  a  mirror  of  human  conduct,  and  therefore  has  an  ethical 
significance.  The  ethical  purpose  of  the  drama  is  stated  by 
Aristotle  to  be  the  purification  of  our  passions  by  means  of 
pity  and  terror.  That  is  to  say,  we  should  be  terrified  by  the 
misdeeds,  the  crimes  of  men  as  presented  in  the  drama;  we 
should  be  moved  to  pity  on  account  of  the  misfortunes  which 
follow  these  misdeeds,  the  awful  suffering  resulting  both  to 
the  innocent  and  the  guilty.  And  the  benefit  arising  from 
this  two-fold  effect  should  be  a  purification  of  the  passions  so 
as  to  conform  them  to  right  conduct.  The  ethical  proposi- 
tion underlying  the  drama  is  this :  vice  must  be  punished ; 
virtue  must  be  rewarded.  Not  only  this,  but  virtue  must  be 
represented  as  more  attractive  than  vice,  and  more  worthy 
of  imitation.  For  example,  in  "  King  Lear,"  the  vice  of 
Goneril  and  Regan  is  punished  by  murder  and  suicide;  the 
victims  of  Edgar  and  Kent  are  rewarded  by  their  joint  suc- 
cession to  the  throne  of  Britain. 

Opinion  of  Blair. —  On  the  ethical  purpose  of  the  drama. 
Dr.  Blair  writes  as  follows : 

'  The  purpose  of  the  drama  is  accomplished  when  we  are  in- 
terested in  behalf  of  virtue ;  when  we  are  moved  to  compassion 

432 


THE  l-l  lllCAL  SIDE 

for  the  distressed,  when  we  are  led  to  guard  against  errors  in  our 
own  conduct,  by  seeing  their  consequences  in  the  lives  of  other 
men.  The  drama  is  thus  a  great  moral  force  making  for  right- 


The  Extent  of  This  Ethical  Purpose. —  An  ethical  purpose 
is  commonly  confined  to  all  serious  drama  of  which  tragedy 
is  the  chief  representative.  In  the  lighter  forms  of  the  drama 
there  is  no  ethical  purpose,  the  aim  being  simply  to  furnish 
amusement.  Yet  there  are  forms  of  comedy  so  vile  and 
suggestive  that  the  modern  stage  in  this  particular  is  uni- 
versally condemned  as  immoral.  So  popular  have  become 
these  light  plays  thus  mixed  with  suggestions  of  vice,  that 
outside  the  domain  of  tragedy,  by  far  the  greater  number  of 
dramas  are  unclean  and  ethically  unsound.  The  drama  has 
furnished  evidences  of  the  most  shocking  immorality.  For 
example,  the  living  pictures  on  the  ancient  Roman  stage; 
the  drama  of  the  Restoration,  to  which  Dryden  was  a  con- 
tributor; the  modern  Extravaganza  or  Vaudeville;  modern 
plays  like  "  Iris,"  "  Sappho  "  and  the  "  Resurrection." 

The  Basis  of  Morality  in  the  Drama. —  The  drama  is  the 
mirror  of  contemporary  life;  hence,  its  ethical  standard  is 
determined  by  the  morality  of  the  age  in  which  it  is  produced. 
Every  age  sets  up  its  own  principles  of  right  and  wrong. 
In  general,  there  is  a  marked  difference  between  the  drama 
of  Christian  and  pagan  times.  The  pagans  were  more  licen- 
tious, lax ;  their  moral  standard  was  lower  than  that  of 
Christian  times.  Hence,  the  ancient  classic  drama  cannot 
compare  with  the  modern  drama  in  the  matter  of  purity. 
Scenes  which  the  Greek  and  Roman  applauded,  would  be 
hissed  from  the  modern  stage.  An  immoral  incident  in  a 
modern  play  is  often  tolerated,  but  an  immoral  object  as  a 
sustained  purpose,  would  be  fatal.  Hence,  the  withdrawal 


434  THE  DRAMA 

of  so  many  plays  like  Sappho,  or  the  re-casting  of  them,  so 
as  to  eliminate  the  immoral  purpose. 

Reasons  for  the  Low  Pagan  Standard. —  First,  the  idea  of 
Fate,  or  Destiny,  which  was  resistless  and  inexorable.  This 
religious  belief  contributed  directly  to  lower  the  moral  stand- 
ard of  the  ancient  classic  drama;  because  it  annihilated  free 
will  ;*  it  taught  the  hero  that  it  was  vain  for  him  to  struggle 
against  vicious  inclination.  The  hero  was  doomed  by  Des- 
tiny to  follow  a  certain  course,  whether  right  or  wrong. 
Some  examples :  In  ^Eschylus,  Clytemnestra  murders  Aga- 
memnon, and  afterwards  pleads  that  it  is  not  she,  but  Destiny 
that  has  done  the  deed.  In  Euripides,  Orestes  is  pursued  by 
the  furies,  and  he  cries  out  in  justification  of  the  murder 
that  Fate  was  guilty  of  the  crime.  He  could  not  avert  what 
the  gods  had  in  store  for  him.  In  other  words,  he  was  not 
responsible  for  his  own  acts.  In  Sophocles,  Antigone  breaks 
the  existing  laws  of  the  realm :  "  Destiny  wills  it."  Be- 
sides the  influence  of  Fate  or  Destiny  the  Pagan  gods  in  many 
cases  set  a  poor  example  of  moral  conduct.  Like  Venus, 
many  of  them  were  the  deification  of  vice.  They  were  repro- 
duced on  the  Greek  and  Roman  stage  in  all  their  moral  de- 
formity. Hence,  religion  among  the  pagans  was  the  great 
enemy  of  virtue  and  morality.  Another  reason  for  the  de- 
pravity of  the  ancient  classic  stage  was  the  pagan  treatment 
of  woman.  In  real  life  and  on  the  stage,  she  was  treated 
as  the  toy  and  plaything  of  passion.  The  pagan  concept  of 
marriage  permitted  concubinage  and  polygamy.  Hence,  the 
hero  of  the  pagan  drama  was  often  represented  with  as  many 
wives  as  the  divinity  he  adored.  An  instance  of  this  freedom 
is  furnished  by  Shakespeare  in  King  Lear;  the  pagan  Glos- 
ter  and  his  illegitimate  son,  Edmund.  A  new  sense  of  decency 
seems  to  have  been  created  by  the  Christian  exaltation  of 


THE  MYSTERY  PLAY  435 

woman ;  just  as  a  new  ethical  standard  arose  from  the  vindi- 
cation of  free-will  and  individual  accountability. 

Religion  and  the  Ethics  of  the  Drama. —  The  Church  used 
her  influence  to  redeem  the  drama,  just  as  she  was  instru- 
mental in  improving  and  elevating  all  the  arts.  She  made 
the  drama  the  teacher  of  religion  and  morality;  hence,  the 
existence  of  the  old  mystery  and  morality  plays.  The  oldest 
reference  to  the  mystery  plays  in  our  literature  is  the  play 
of  St.  Catherine,  presented  in  the  Convent  of  Dunstable  in 
1119.  The  play  deals  with  the  miracles  and  martyrdom  of 
the  Saint.  Mysteries,  or  miracle  plays  abound  in  the  early 
literature  of  all  the  Catholic  countries  of  Europe :  Spain, 
Germany,  France,  Italy,  possess  an  abundance  of  this  litera- 
ture. Every  large  cathedral,  monastery  and  convent  school 
had  its  stage.  The  Divine  Comedy  of  Dante  is  only  a  long 
narrative  form  of  mystery  plays  enacted  at  Florence  —  plays 
that  dealt  with  heaven,  hell  and  purgatory.  These  plays  were 
composed  and  acted  by  Monks ;  the  cathedral  was  often  trans- 
formed into  a  theatre;  the  costumes  were  furnished  by  the 
rich  vestry  of  the  church ;  they  personified  angels,  devils, 
saints  and  martyrs.  The  comic  element  was  supplied  by  the 
Devil  who  took  the  part  of  a  clown  or  jester. 

Materials. —  The  material  for  the  mystery  plays  was  drawn 
from  the  Bible  and  from  early  church  history.  For  example, 
we  have  such  titles  as  the  Creation  of  the  World,  the  Fall 
of  Man,  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  the  Crucifixion  of 
our  Lord.  In  this  manner  the  church  utilized  the  drama 
as  a  teacher  of  religion.  The  church  employed  the  drama 
as  a  teacher  of  morality,  and  the  morality  plays  are  the  re- 
sult. These  plays  were  contemporary  with  the  old  mystery 
or  miracle  plays;  they  were  a  product  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  the  first  to  employ  them  were  the  Norman  trouveres. 


436  THE  DRAMA 

They  can  be  traced  back  through  short  Latin  texts  to  the 
eleventh  century.  From  France  these  plays  were  brought 
into  England  where  they  at  once  became  popular.  They  also 
spread  to  Germany,  Italy  and  Spain;  so  that  we  may  say 
the  church  employed  the  drama  for  five  centuries  as  the 
teacher  of  morality.  The  morality  plays  satisfied  the  love 
for  moral  allegory  which  manifests  itself  in  so  many  periods 
of  English  literature. 

Earliest  English  Example. —  The  earliest  English  morality 
play  extant  dates  back  to  1343.  It  was  called  the  Pride  of 
Life.  This  drama  supplies  a  good  definition  of  the  morality 
play.  Man  is  represented  as  the  King  of  life;  the  various 
virtues  and  vices  —  pride,  anger,  envy,  avarice;  patience,  hu- 
mility, abstinence,  come  in  turn  and  make  their  appeals  to 
him ;  the  ethical  lesson  being  that  he  repels  all  the  vices  and 
welcomes  all  the  virtues.  Thus  the  earlier  English  morality 
plays  from  the  reign  of  Henry  VI,  to  Henry  VIII,  throw 
into  allegorical  form  the  conflict  between  good  and  evil  in 
the  mind  and  life  of  man.  Every  virtue  is  personified  and 
held  up  for  admiration.  Every  vice  takes  also  some  hideous, 
repellent  form.  Such  titles  as  the  Punishment  of  Gluttony, 
the  Fall  of  Pride,  the  Rebuke  of  Envy,  indicate  the  ethical 
lesson  and  purpose  of  the  morality  plays. 

Absence  of  Art. —  Neither  the  mystery  nor  morality  playi- 
exhibit  any  high  degree  of  art.  These  plays  are  little  more 
than  loose  bundles  of  dialogues  thrown  together  without  plot 
coherence  or  unity.  In  English  literature  not  one  of  these 
has  survived  as  an  artistic  model.  This  is  all  the  more 
strange  since  they  were  written  at  a  time  when  painting, 
sculpture,  architecture,  and  all  the  other  fine  arts  flourished. 
The  fact  is  explained  in  two  ways :  first,  the  imperfect  con- 
dition of  the  medium  made  a  high  grade  of  art  impossible. 


ETHICS  OF  MODERN  DRAMA  437 

The  languages  of  Western  Europe  were  in  a  very  crude,  im- 
perfect condition.  If  we  except  the  Italian,  the  medium 
through  which  Dante  and  Petrarch  worked,  no  living  language 
at  the  time  was  sufficiently  flexible  or  polished  for  the  best 
grades  of  literary  art.  For  example,  in  English,  the  plays  of 
Shakespeare  could  not  have  been  written  before  his  time, 
even  if  the  genius  to  produce  them  had  previously  existed. 
A  second  reason  is  the  lack  of  training  on  the  part  of  the 
monks.  They  had  not  the  best  models  before  them,  or  at 
least  did  not  use  them  to  advantage.  In  their  dramatic  works 
there  is  little  trace  of  classic  training.  It  is  also  urged  that 
in  the  case  of  the  miracle  plays  the  monks  did  not  wish  to 
depart  from  the  simplicity  of  the  Biblical  narrative ;  whereas 
the  morality  or  allegorical  plays  could  be  only  lengthy  dia- 
logues at  best;  no  room  existing  for  character  creation  or 
subtlety  of  plot.  But  however  it  may  be  explained,  whether  on 
the  ground  of  lack  of  medium  or  genius  or  training  or  unsuit- 
ableness  of  material,  it  cannot  be  urged  that  Christianity 
antagonized  the  drama.  The  very  existence  of  the  miracle 
and  morality  plays  is  proof  of  the  very  opposite  attitude. 
Although  not  a  high  grade  of  art,  miracle  and  morality  plays 
accomplished  the  purpose  for  which  they  were  written ;  they 
taught  religious  truth,  and  the  very  highest  standard  of 
morality.  And  these  religious  and  ethical  lessons  were  of 
supreme  value  to  the  multitude,  even  though  they  were  not 
enforced  by  all  the  subtlety  and  charm  of  dramatic  art. 

The  Ethics  of  the  Modern  Drama. —  It  is  generally  admitted 
that  the  modern  drama  represents  neither  a  high  grade  of  art 
nor  a  high  standard  of  morality.  Zangwill,  the  English  critic, 
says  of  the  modern  play  that  it  consists  of  drivel  and  devil. 
The  criticism  is  just,  for  all  our  representative  authors  of 
dramatic  literature  seem  to  be  afflicted  with  moral  degeneracy. 
Some  examples :  Henry  Ibsen,  representing  Scandinavian  lit- 


43g  THE  DRAMA 

erature;  he  has  written  some  thirty  dramas,  most  of  which  are 
unfit  for  reading  or  presentation  on  the  stage;  the  vilest  are 
Love's  Comedy,  the  Doll  House,  and  the  Lady  from  the  Sea. 
A  few  of  his  expurgated  plays  have  been  well  received  in 
England  and  America,  on  account  of  their  literary  merit.  In 
his  dramas,  Ibsen  aims  at  destroying  the  marriage  bond,  and 
giving  unrestrained  liberty  to  all  the  natural  passions.  Like 
Ibsen,  Tolstoi  has  corrupted  Russian  literature.  His  novels 
as  soon  as  written,  are  dramatized,  not  only  in  Russia,  but 
throughout  the  English  speaking  world,  where  he  enjoys  a 
large  and  unsavory  reputation.  As  an  example  of  his  ethical 
standard,  the  Kreutzer  Sonata  was  forbidden  to  pass  through 
the  United  States  mails,  but  the  English  translators  and  pub- 
lishers managed  to  dispose  of  half  a  million  copies.  His  latest 
work,  The  Resurrection,  was  hissed  from  the  Londo'n  stage, 
recast,  and  played  in  New  York  City.  Tolstoi,  like  Ibsen,  is 
a  pure  pagan  in  morals,  believes  in  no  restraint.  His  recent 
excommunication  from  the  Greek  Church  happened  more  on 
account  of  his  ethical  than  his  religious  teaching.  Herman 
Sudermann,  the  leading  living  German  dramatist,  belongs  to 
the  same  category  as  Ibsen  and  Tolstoi.  His  chief  plays,  the 
End  of  Sodom,  Home,  and  a  Question  of  Honor,  were  pro- 
hibited by  the  German  Government  on  account  of  their  im- 
morality. These  plays  were  welcomed  in  Paris,  and  Suder- 
mann is  acting  as  playwright  for  Sara  Bernhardt,  supplying 
a  new  drama  every  year.  He  is  a  prolific  writer,  a  dramatic 
genius,  but  he  has  used  his  pen  to  degrade  the  modern  stage. 

The  Outlook. —  From  an  ethical  standpoint,  we  may  hope 
for  better  things,  at  least  in  the  English-speaking  world  where 
there  has  always  been  a  healthy  reaction  from  stage  disease 
and  corruption.  Already  our  playwrights  show  signs  of  re- 
turning moral  sanity.  The  public  is  beginning  to  demand  a 
higher  standard,  and  the  playwrights  respond,  as  a  matter  of 
course. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 
THE  DRAMA  (CONTINUED) 
REPRESENTATIVE    AUTHORS 

The  Drama  of  Job.—  The  authorship  of  this  drama  is  still 
an  unsettled  question  in  Old  Testament  criticism.  Jewish  tra- 
dition, as  expressed  in  the  Talmud,  assigns  it  to  Moses  — 
a  view  in  which  some  modern  critics  concur.  Modern  scholar- 
ship can  fix  neither  the  date  nor  the  authorship,  although  from 
internal  evidence  it  is  clear  that  the  drama  was  written  some 
time  between  the  seventh  and  fourth  centuries  before  Christ. 
In  matter,  if  not  in  form,  Job  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
oldest  specimens  of  dramatic  literature. 

Criticism  by  William  Davidson.—"  The  Poem  of  '  Job  '  so 
remarkable  for  imaginative  power  and  literary  skill,  was  un- 
questionably intended  to  set  forth  theological  doctrine  —  God, 
man,  evil,  good,  suffering,  hope,  destiny.  The  thesis  of  the  book 
is  that  suffering  in  the  present  life  is  not  precisely  proportioned 
to  ill  desert.  On  the  contrary,  the  righteous  suffer:  yet  the 
drama  teaches  that  God  is,  and  God  is  good.  Job's  attitude 
throughout  is  that  of  the  man  who  is  trying  to  understand  God, 
not  denying  His  existence  or  mocking  at  His  rule.  Job  teaches 
us,  first  of  all,  that  the  drama  of  our  earthly  life  has  a  significance 
which  earth  does  not  exhaust.  Secondly,  the  government  of  the 
Most  High  contemplates  issues  which  are  beyond  us.  Thirdly, 
it  may  be  necessary  to  prove  disinterested  goodness  to  men, 
angels  and  devils.  This  drama  of  human  suffering  teaches  that 
pain  may  be  a  privilege  rather  than  a  punishment ;  that  the  lofti- 
est spirits  may  have  to  pass  through  it  as  a  trial  of  their  loyalty 
rather  than  a  chastisement  for  their  transgressions;  and  that  in 
such  cases  it  behooves  them  to  bear,  as  the  Lord's  chosen  ones, 

439 


440 


THE  DRAMA 


the  burden  and  the  mystery  of  life,  as  pregnant  with  a  deeper 
significance  hereafter  to  be  made  known." 

Literary  Form. —  A  majority  of  writers  agree  in  calling 
Job  a  drama,  although  Milton  refers  to  it  as  an  epic  with 
a  dramatic  setting.  On  this  point  Driver  writes  as  follows: 
"It  is  of  the  nature  of  a  drama  not  yet  emancipated  from-  the 
lyric  element.  It  may  be  termed  a  dramatic  poem,  for  its 
principal  parts  are  constructed  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue,  and 
the  action  which  it  represents  passes  through  the  successive 
stages  of  entanglement,  development  and  solution.  The  action 
is,  however,  largely  internal  and  mental,  the  successive  scenes 
exhibiting  the  varying  moods  of  a  great  soul  struggling  with 
the  mystery  of  fate,  rather  than  trying  external  situations. 
The  constructive  imagination  of  the  writer  is  conspicuous 
throughout ;  it  reveals  itself  in  the  bold  conceptions,  the  free, 
flowing  outlines  of  the  whole  poem ;  also  in  the  wealth,  variety 
and  finish  of  its  detailed  imagery.  Only  a  close  study  of  the 
book  can  give  an  idea  of  the  richness  and  multitude  of  its 
metaphors,  the  concentrated  vigor  of  its  phraseology,  !its 
depth  of  human  feeling,  its  portraiture  of  life  and  the  express- 
iveness of  the  descriptions  of  external  nature." 

Criticism  by  Professor  Moulton. — "  The  dominant  impression 
is  that  of  a  magnificent  drama.  No  element  of  dramatic  effect 
is  wanting  —  the  great  ash-mound  is  the  stage  —  the  crowd  of 
spectators  resemble  the  Greek  chorus  —  the  changes  of  the  sky 
are  a  fitting  dramatic  background.  Interest  in  character  abounds 
— -Eliphoz,  Jophar  and  Bildad  are  distinct  creations.  But  the 
essence  of  the  drama  lies  in  the  action.  The  whole  world  of 
literature  hardly  contains  a  more  remarkable  piece  of  dramatic 
movement  than  the  changes  of  position  taken  by  Job  in  the 
course  of  the  dialogue  with  the  Friends.  To  dramatic  effect, 
however,  must  be  added  epic;  the  description  of  the  Heavenly 
Court  is  epical ;  also  in  the  mode  in  which  Heaven  deals  with 
Job  —  the  seeming  conspiracy  of  earth  and  heaven,  which  robs 
Job  of  all  his. possessions.  The  lyric  element  is  also  present,  as 


AESCHYLUS 


441 


for  example  in  the  Curse  —  the  elegy  of  a  Broken  Heart.  As  to 
the  central  idea  of  the  dialogue,  it  is  a  philosophical  discussion 
dramatized.  The  subject  discussed  is  the  mystery  of  human 
suffering  and  its  bearing  upon  the  righteous  government  of  the 
world.  Each  section  of  the  drama  is  the  representation  of  a  dif- 
ferent philosophical  attitude  to  this  question." 

-ffischylus. —  He  was  a  native  of  Attica,  born  in  the  year 
525  B.  C.,  and  died  in  Sicily,  456  B.  C.  He  took  part  in  the 
great  battles  of  the  Persian  War,  having  been  wounded  at 
Marathon.  Afterward  he  gave  his  attention  to  the  drama. 
He  is  called  the  "  Father  of  Greek  Tragedy/'  More  than  sixty 
dramas  were  written  by  him ;  seven  are  extant ;  of  these,  the 
best  are  the  Persae,  Seven  Against  Thebes,  Prometheus  Vinc- 
tus,  and  the  Orestean  Trilogy. 

Criticism  by  William  Ward. — "  The  classic  period  of  the 
Greek  drama  includes  yEschylus,  Sophocles  and  Euripides. 
These  are  the  names  of  its  three  great  masters ;  in  the  progress  of 
their  art  there  is  an  unbroken  continuity.  ^Eschylus  had  fought 
against  those  Persians  whose  rout  he  celebrated  with  patriotic 
pride  in  the  "  Persae."  He  was  trained  in  the  Eleusinian  mys- 
teries, and  was  a  passionate  upholder  of  the  institution  most  in- 
timately associated  with  the  primitive  political  traditions  of  the 
past  —  the  Areopagus.  He  had  been  born  in  the  generation 
after  Solon,  to  whose  maxims  he  fondly  clung;  he  must  have 
belonged  to  that  anti-democratical  party  which  favored  the  Spar- 
tan alliance,  and  it  was  the  Warian  development  of  Hellenic  life 
and  the  philosophical  system  based  upon  it  with  which  his  re- 
ligious and  moral  convictions  were  imbued.  Thus,  even  upon 
the  generation  which  succeeded  him,  the  chivalrous  spirit  and  dic- 
tion of  his  poetry,  and  the  unapproached  sublimity  of  his  drama- 
tic imagination,  fell,  as  it  falls  upon  later  posterity,  like  the  note 
of  a  mightier  age." 

Criticism  by  A.  E.  Haigh. — "  ^schylus,  if  we  consider  the 
variety  and  significance  of  the  work  which  he  accomplished,  ap- 
pears to  have  been  one  of  the  greatest  poetic  geniuses  that  the 


442  DRAMA 

world  has  ever  seen.  The  influence  which  he  exercised  upon  the 
growth  of  Greek  tragedy  was  so  powerful  and  decisive,  that  he 
may  be  regarded  as  its  founder.  In  the  hands  of  Thespis  and 
his  successors,  the  drama  had  scarcely  advanced  beyond  the  em- 
bryonic stage,  and  its  future  was  still  uncertain.  ./Eschylus,  in 
the  course  of  a  single  generation,  expanded  and  developed  its 
latent  capacities  with  such  masterly  power  and  such  completeness 
of  result,  that  its  general  character  was  henceforth  finally  set- 
tled, and  the  task  of  subsequent  poets  became  comparatively  easy. 
His  activity  was  not  confined  to  any  one  branch  of  theatrical 
representation,  but  covered  the  entire  field,  and  effected  an  equal 
transformation  in  the  structure,,  the  spirit  and  the  external  ap- 
pearance of  tragedy.  The  most  obvious  characteristics  of  Eschy- 
lus, are  grandeur,  loftiness  and  massive  strength.  His  dramas 
are  colossal  creations,  planned  and  executed  with  a  largeness 
of  design  and  a  depth  of  purpose  to  which  it  would  be  difficult  to 
find  any  parallel.  Every  part  of  the  composition,  from  the  plot? 
and  characters  to  the  language  and  versification,  is  fashioned  on 
the  same  imposing  scale,  and  the  effect  of  the  whole  is  to  impress 
the  mind  with  a  sense  of  unapproachable  power  and  majesty. 
The  material  for  his  tragedies  is  drawn  from  very  various 
quarters,  and  covers  nearly  the  whole  ground  of  Greek  myth- 
ology. Some  of  them  seem  to  be  based  on  mere  oral  tradition 
and  not  on  previous  literature.  As  regards  plot,  there  is  very 
little  of  it  in  his  dramas,  at  least,  in  the  modern  sense;  there  are 
no  sudden  obstacles,  unexpected  developments  or  rapid  vicissi- 
tudes of  situation.  The  construction  is  so  simple  that  the  ulti- 
mate issue  is  known  to  the  audience  from  the  very  first.  The 
choral  odes  are  long;  between  these  come  the  brief  but  impas- 
sioned dialogues  in  which  -the  characters  work  out  their  doom, 
and  the  inevitable  justice  of  the  gods  advances  slowly  but  surely 
to  its  appointed  end." 

Sophocles. —  He  was  born  at  Colonus,  near  Athens,  495 
B.  C. ;  died  at  Athens,  406  B.  C.  He  was  one  of  the  Athenian 
generals  in  the  Samian  War.  He  contended  for  the  tragic 
prize  in  468,  defeating  ^Eschylus;  in  turn,  he  was  defeated 
by  Euripides.  Of  his  extant  plays  the  best  known  are  CEdipus 
Tyrannus,  Antigone,  Electra,  and  Ajax. 


SOPHOCLES  443 

Criticism  by  Professor  Mahaffy. —  "  Sophocles  devoted  all  his 
energy  to  the  production  of  those  famous  works  of  art,  which 
gave  him  such  a  hold  over  the  Athenian  public  that  he  came  to 
be  considered  the  very  ideal  of  a  tragic  poet,  and  was  worshipped 
after  his  death  as  a  hero,  under  the  title  of  Dexion.  He  is  said 
to  have  won  twenty  tragic  victories.  The  author  of  the  "  Poetic  " 
and  the  Alexandrian  critics  follow  the  judgment  of  the  Attic 
public,  and  most  modern  critics  have  agreed  with  them  that  the 
tragedies  of  Sophocles  are  the  most  perfect  that  the  world  has 
seen." 

Criticism  by  Thomas  Sergeant  Perry, — "  The  general  cus- 
tom of  critics  is  to  refer  to  Sophocles  as  the  great  poet  of  the  age 
of  Pericles,  as  is  Shakespeare  of  the  Elizabethan  age,  Racine  of 
that  of  Louis  XIV.  The  inevitable  comparison  between  his  work 
and  that  of  ^Eschylus  makes  clear  the  difference  between  the 
man  who  works  with  unfamiliar  tools  in  rapidly  changing  con- 
ditions, rand  his  successor  who  finds  the  paths  cut  and  laid  out, 
so  that  it  falls  to  him  to  devote  himself  to  perfecting  the  task  in 
hand.  Sophocles  found  the  drama  established,  and  he  developed 
its  capacities;  he  deepened  its  human  interest  by  modifying  sub- 
limities and  heroics  in  the  direction  of  real  human  life,  changing 
the  mythological  monster  into  a  man  with  perfectly  natural 
sorrows,  joys,  ambitions,  sufferings,  etc.  Again,  ^schylus  made 
full  use  of  his  opportunities  to  terrify  the  spectators  with  ghastly 
scenes.  Sophocles,  on  the  other  hand,  lets  solemn  pathos  and 
religious  awe  take  the  place  of  complete  terror.  In  reviewing 
the  total  impression  of  what  has  come  down  to  us  from  the  hands 
of  Sophocles,  what  strikes  us  is  the  calmness  and  self-possession 
of  his  art,  a  quality  that  is  more  readily  perceived  than  described, 
for  the  nearer  an  object  comes  to  perfect  beauty,  the  more  diffi- 
cult it  is  to  define  it,  except  with  that  one  word.  When  it  has 
marked  qualities  that  give  one  side  more  prominence  than  an- 
other, we  are  no  longer  dumb.  In  English  literature,  for  ex- 
ample, Milton  has  been  described  with  exactness,  whereas  count- 
less volumes  have  struggled  with  Shakespeare,  and  his  work,  at 
its  best,  yet  defies  the  most  industrious  commentators  to  say  just 
wherein  its  merit  lies.  In  the  same  way  the  rounded  perfection 
of  Sophocles  baffles  anyone  who  tries  his  hand  at  conveying  a 
full  impression  of  his  many  attractive  qualities. 


444 


THE  DRAMA 


Criticism  by  Blair. — "  Sophocles  is  the  most  masterly  of  the 
three  Greek  tragedians,  the  most  correct  in  the  conduct  of  his 
subjects,  the  most  just  in  his  sentiments.  He  is  likewise  eminent 
for-  his  descriptive  talent;  for  example,  the  description  of  the 
death  of  CEdipus  or  of  Haemon  is  a  perfect  pattern  of  what  de- 
scription should  be  in  a  tragedy.  While  ^Eschylus  is  the  Father 
of  Greek  Tragedy,  he  exhibits  the  defects  as  well  as  the  beauties 
of  an  early  original  writer ;  he  is  bold,  nervous,  animated,  yet  very 
obscure  and  difficult  to  be  understood;  his  style  is  crowded  too 
much  with  metaphors;  it  is  often  harsh  and  abrupt.  He  has 
much  fire,  elevation,  force,  but  less  of  tenderness  than  Sophocles. 
He  delights  in  the  marvellous,  the  uncanny,  the  blood-curdling; 
for  example,  the  Ghost  of  Darius,  or  the  furies  in  Eumenides. 
On  the  contrary,  Sophocles  is  content  with  the  human,  the  natural 
—  the  mirror  held  up,  not  to  mythology,  but  to  nature." 

Euripides. —  The  third  and  last  of  the  famous  Greek 
tragedians  was  born  480  B.  C.,  and  died  406  B.  C.  He  was 
a  native  of  Salamis,  lived  during  the  invasion  of  Xerxes, 
studied  rhetoric  under  Prodicus,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-five 
began  to  write  dramas.  He  wrote  seventy-five  plays  in  all; 
eighteen  of  which  are  extant.  The  most  famous  are 
"  Hecuba,"  "  Iphigenia,"  "  Electra,"  "  Ion  "  and  "  Bacchse." 

Criticism  by  Professor  R.  C.  Jebb. — "  Euripides  is  the  media- 
tor between  ancient  and  modern  drama  No  great  poet  is  more 
difficult  to  estimate  justly,  and  none  has  been  judged  more  un- 
fairly. Euripides  was  only  fifteen  years  younger  than  Sophocles. 
But  when  Euripides  began  to  write,  it  must  have  been  clear  to 
any  man  of  his  genius  and  culture  that,  though  an  established 
prestige  might  be  maintained,  a  new  poet  who  sought  to  construct 
tragedy  on  the  old  basis  would  be  building  on  sand.  For,  first, 
the  popular  religion  itself  —  the  very  foundation  of  tragedy  —  had 
been  undermined.  Secondly,  scepticism  had  begun  to  be  busy 
with  the  legends  which  that  religion  consecrated.  Neither  gods 
nor  heroes  commanded  all  the  old  unquestioning  faith.  Lastly, 
an  increasing  number  of  the  audience  in  the  theatre  began  to  be 
destitute  of  the  training,  musical  and  poetical,  which  had  prepared 
an  earlier  generation  to  enjoy  the  chaste  and  placid  grand- 


ARISTOPHANES  445 

eur  of  ideal  Tragedy.  Euripides  made  a  splendid  effort  to  main- 
tain the  place  of  tragedy  in  the  spiritual  life  of  Athens  by  modi- 
fying its  interests  in  the  sense  which  his  own  generation  required. 
Could  not  the  heroic  persons  still  excite  interest  if  they  were 
made  more  real  —  if,  in  them,  the  passions  and  sorrows  of  every- 
day life  were  portrayed  with  greater  vividness  and  directness? 
And  might  not  the  less  cultivated  part  of  the  audience  at  least 
enjoy  a  thrilling  plot,  especially  i-f  taken  from  the  home-legends 
of  Attica?  Euripides  became  the  virtual  founder  of  the  Roman- 
tic Drama.  In  so  far  as  his  work  fails,  the  failure  is  one  which 
probably  no  artistic  tact  could  then  have  wholly  avoided.  The 
frame  within  which  he  had  to  work  was  one  which  could  not  be 
stretched  to  his  plan.  The  chorus,  the  masks,  the  narrow  stage, 
the  conventional  costumes,  the  slender  opportunities  for  change  of 
scenery,  were  so  many  fixed  obstacles  to  the  free  development  of 
tragedy  in  the  new  direction.  But  no  man  of  his  time  could 
have  broken  free  from  these  traditions ;  in  attempting  to  do  so, 
he  must  have  wrecked  either  his  fame  or  his  art.  It  is  not  the 
fault  of  Euripides  if  in  so  much  of  his  work  we  feel  the  want  of 
harmony  between  matter  and  form.  Art  abhors  compromise; 
and  it  was  the  misforune  of  Attic  tragedy  in  his  generation  that 
nothing  but  a  compromise  could  save  it. 

Aristophanes. —  Among  authors  of  Greek  comedy,  Aris- 
tophanes is  fairly  representative.  He  was  born  446  B.  C.  and 
died  not  later  than  380  B.  C.  He  is  sometimes  called  the 
Pagan  Voltaire,  because  his  plays  tend  to  bring  the  gods  into 
contempt.  His  best  known  plays  are  the  "  Frogs,"  the 
"  Clouds/'  the  "  Wasps  "  and  the  "  Birds." 

Criticism  by  Professor  R.  C.  Jebb. — "  Comedy,  as  we  have  it 
in  Aristophanes,  is  a  public  commentary  on  the  every-day  life  of 
Athens,  in  great  things  and  small.  Politics  and  society,  states- 
men and  private  persons,  are  criticised  with  unsparing  freedom. 
The  satire  is  unscrupulously  personal.  Old  Athens  knew  no  re- 
spect for  private  life  when  it  seemed  to  be  for  the  good  of  the 
city  that  the  vices  of  a  citizen  should  be  lashed.  Aristophanes 
was  not  only  a  great  satirist,  but  a  great  poet.  His  comedies 
unite  elements  which  meet  nowhere  in  literature.  There  is  a  play 


446  THE  DRAMA 

of  fancy,  as  extravagant  as  in  a  modern  Burlesque.  The  whole 
world  is  turned  topsy-turvy.  Gods  and  mortals  alike  are  whirled 
through  the  motley  riot  of  one  great  carnival.  There  is  a  humor 
as  delicate,  a  literary  satire  as  keen,  as  the  most  exquisite  wit 
could  offer  to  the  most  subtle  appreciation.  And  there  are  lyric 
strains  of  a  wild  woodland  sweetness  hardly  to  be  matched,  save 
in  Shakespeare.  He  claims  for  himself,  and  justly,  that  he  is 
outspoken  on  the  side  of  virtue  and  against  vice." 

Criticism  by  Thomas  Sergeant  Perry. — "  Aristophanes  repre- 
sents, not  only  wit  and  satire,  but  half  of  the  divided  spirit  of 
Athens,  and  to  speak  of  him  merely  as  a  great  writer  is  to  do 
him  but  scant  justice.  Aristophanes  is  great  because  he  personi- 
fies an  important  part  of  the  Athenian  people;  his  hatred  of  the 
destructive  war ;  his  detestation  of  the  new  intellectual  ferment, 
his  abhorrence  of  the  democracy,  are  beyond  and  outside  of  his 
personal  feelings  —  they  count  as  the  expression  of  a  large  part  of 
an  eager  people.  As  regards  the  laws  of  the  drama,  Aristophanes 
adhered  strictly  to  them,  and  his  dramas  are  some  of  the  finest 
specimens  we  have  in  the  department  of  Comedy." 

Among  the  Latins. —  The  regular  Roman  drama  was  of 
foreign  origin  —  a  mere  imitation  of  the  Greek.  Unfortu- 
nately there  is  very  little  of  the  Roman  drama  extant,  especially 
those  creations  that  belong  to  the  classic  age.  We  know  only 
the  titles  of  the  tragedies  written  by  Lucius,  Andronicus 
and  Ennius.  The  tragedies  of  Seneca  are  the  only  ones  which 
we  possess,  plays  in  which  not  only  the  Greek  themes  are  em- 
ployed, but  likewise  the  Greek  method.  However,  two  writers 
of  Roman  comedy  are  famous;  their  extant  dramas  rescue 
Latin  literature  from  absolute  sterility  in  this  department. 

Plautus. —  M.  Accius  Plautus  was  a  celebrated  comic  poet; 
he  was  the  son  of  a  freedman,  born  in  Umbria  about  525 
A.  U.  C.  He  was  called  Plautus  from  his  splay-feet,  a  defect 
common  to  the  Umbrians.  Twenty  plays  of  this  writer  have 
ccrme  down  to  us;  although,  in  his  age,  about  one  hundred 


PLAUTUS  447 

and  thirty  plays  bore  his  name.     His  best  known  plays  are 
the  "  Captive,"  "  Rudens,"  "  Mostellaria,"  and  "  Mensechmi." 

Criticism  by  Charles  Anthon. — "  In  each  plot  of  Plautus  there 
is  sufficient  action,  movement  and  spirit.  The  incidents  never 
flag,  but  rapidly  accelerate  the  catastrophe.  But  if  we  regard 
his  plays  in  the  mass,  there  is  a  considerable,  and  perhaps  too 
great  uniformity  in  his  fables;  they  hinge  for  the  most  part  on 
the  love  of  some  dissolute  youth  for  a  courtesan,  his  employment 
of  a  slave  to  defraud  a  father  of  a  sum  sufficient  for  his  expensive 
pleasures,  and  the  final  discovery  that  his  mistress  is  a  free-born 
citizen.  The  Latin  style  of  Plautus  excels  in  briskness  of  dia- 
logue as  well  as  purity  of  expression,  and  has  been  extolled  by 
the  learned  Roman  grammarians  who  declared  that  if  the  Muses 
were  to  speak  Latin,  they  would  employ  his  diction.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  but  that  Plautus  wonderfully  improved  and  refined 
the  Latin  language.  The  chief  excellence  of  Plautus  is  generally 
reputed  to  consist  in  the  wit  and  comic  force  of  his  dialogue.  At 
times  he  degenerates  into  buffoonery  and  scurrility,  but  like  other 
dramatists  he  was  obliged  to  appeal  to  baser  elements  of  society." 

Publius  Terentius. —  He  was  a  celebrated  Latin  comic  poet, 
born  about  the  56oth  year  of  Rome.  In  his  earliest  youth  he 
was  a  slave.  He  composed,  or  rather  adapted  from  the  Greek, 
a  large  number  of  plays,  six  of  which  are  extant.  Of  these 
the  "  Adelphi,"  "  Hecyra  "  and  "  Eunuchus  "  are  best  known. 

Criticism  by  Professor  Smith. — "  The  plots  of  Terence,  as  a 
rule,  are  taken  from  Greek  sources.  In  the  additions  and  alter- 
ations which  he  made,  he  has  given  proof  of  good  taste  and  judg- 
ment. He  was  a  more  careful  observer  of  the  unities  of  time  and 
place  than  Plautus  or  any  of  his  predecessors.  Terence  instead 
of  resorting  to  buffoonery  in  order  to  hold  his  audience,  had  re- 
course to  the  double  plot,  thus  increasing  the  public  interest  in  the 
play  without  pandering  to  the  viler  tastes  of  the  rabble.  Ancient 
critics  are  agreed  that  the  special  talent  of  this  author  is  re- 
vealed in  the  delineation  of  characters  and  manners,  and  in  the 
inimitable  art  with  which  he  wove  incidents  into  the  dramatic 
story.  All  the  inferior  passions  which  form  the  scope  of  comedy 


THE  DRAMA 

are  nicely  observed  and  adequately  expressed.  Like  Plautus,  he 
did  much  to  polish  the  rugged  Latin:  Cicero  refers  to  him  as 
"  omnia  dulcia  dicens."  His  comedies  are  remarkable  for  their 
elegance  of  dialogue,  presenting  a  constant  flow  of  easy,  genteel, 
polite  conversation.  The  difference  between  Terence  and  Plautus 
lies  in  the  fact  that  the  former  wrote  for  the  refined  and  educated 
few,  whereas  the  latter  strove  to  satisfy  the  ignorant  multitude." 

Goethe.—  Among  the  Germans,  Goethe  ranks  first  as  a  poet 
and  dramatist.  He  was  born  at  Frankfort  in  1749  and  died 
at  Weimar  in  1832.  His  father,  a  man  of  means,  bore  the  title 
of  Imperial  Councillor.  Goethe  graduated  in  Law  from  the 
University  of  Strasburg,  but  gave  up  the  legal  profession  for 
literary  pursuits.  He  held  many  positions  of  honor  under 
the  government;  his  travels  were  confined  to  Italy.  He  was 
on  familiar  terms  with  Carlyle  and  knew  English  literature 
thoroughly.  Schiller,  his  contemporary,  was  a  life-long  friend. 
The  best  known  dramas  of  Goethe  are  "The  Accomplices," 
"  Stella  "  and  "  Faust,"  the  last  play  winning  him  international 
fame. 

Criticism  by  William  Lindemann. — "  Goethe  passed  through 
a  number  of  stages  as  a  poet  and  dramatist.  As  he  grew  in  years 
and  in  knowledge  he  responded  to  the  influence  of  the  Romantic 
Movement.  He  laid  aside  classic  canons  and  joined  the  proces- 
sion led  by  Walter  Scott  and  Wordsworth  in  the  '  return  to  na- 
ture/ As  years  went  by,  he  gave  himself  up  more  and  more  to 
the  contemplation  and  study  of  nature.  Like  Wordsworth  he 
began  to  assent  to  a  higher  pantheism.  Nature  became  all  to 
him,  as  the  last  traces  of  Christian  teaching  faded  from  his  mind. 
In  1776  he  wrote  as  follows:  "All  things  are  to  be  found  in 
nature.  Nature  is  wholly  and  at  all  times  complete.  Her 
crown  is  love.  All  debt  and  merit  alike  belong  to  her.  No 
original  being  corresponds  wholly  to  the  root-idea ;  behind  each 
the  higher  idea  lies  hidden  —  that  is  my  God.'  Again,  he  writes 
to  Herder  concerning  Christ :  '  The  legend  of  Christ  is  a  proof 
that  the  world  can  continue  ten  million  years  and  no  one  reach 
a  correct  judgment  regarding  these  matters.'  Goethe  developed 


GOETHE  449 

an  extraordinary  love  of  nature,  a  love  which  led  him  to  pursue 
so  ardently  the  study  of  the  physical  sciences.  Evidence  of  such 
study  appears  in  all  his  later  poetry.  As  an  author  of  lyrics, 
Goethe  deserves  the  highest  commendation.  Many  of  his  ballads 
are  household  treasures  throughout  the  Fatherland.  It  is  cus- 
tomary to  regard  Goethe  as  a  poet  of  the  head  rather  than  the 
heart;  and  the  bulk  of  his  writings  may  be  quoted  in  support 
of  this  contention.  Nevertheless,  Goethe  possessed  the  passion- 
ate heart  of  the  poet;  his  lyrics  thrill  with  emotion.  And  if  we 
had  not  these,  the  many  love  affairs  in  which  he  was  personally 
involved,  would  be  ample  proof  of  the  existence  of  extraordinary 
passion.  In  the  language  of  England's  bard,  Goethe  '  loved  not 
wisely,  but  too  well.'  If  one  would  doubt  that  he  possessed  a 
heart  or  affection  in  the  highest  degree,  let  him  read  the  poem 
to  Faust.  In  his  treatment  of  the  drama,  Goethe,  while  employ- 
ing classic  themes,  <ieparted  somewhat  from  classic  canons  of 
taste,  and  from  classic  methods.  In  place  of  belief  in  the  gods, 
which  inspired  fear  in  man,  Goethe  substituted  a  religion  of  hu- 
manity, a  humanitarianism  which  was  intended  to  ennoble  human 
nature.  While  preserving  the  skeleton  of  the  ancient  fables, 
Goethe  dressed  them  out  in  modern  motive,  breathing  modern 
life  into  the  dead  past.  Goethe  observes  strictly  the  three  drama- 
tic unities.  The  number  of  acts  is  limited  to  five.  He  pre- 
serves the  form  and  the  admirable  simplicity  of  the  Greek  drama. 

Criticism  by  Thomas  Carlyle. — "  Shakespeare  and  Goethe, 
unlike  innumerable  others,  are  vital;  their  construction  begins  at 
the  heart,  and  flows  outward  as  the  life-streams  do,  fashioning 
the  surface,  as  it  were,  spontaneously.  Those  Macbeths  and  Fal- 
staffs,  accordingly,  those  Fausts  and  Philinas,  have  a  verisimili- 
tude and  life  that  separates  them  from  all  other  fictions  of  late 
ages.  All  others,  in  comparison,  have  more  or  less  the  nature  of 
hollow  wizards,  constructed  from  without  inwards,  painted  like 
and  deceptively  put  in  motion.  Many  years  ago  on  finishing  our 
perusal  of  Wilhelm  Meister,  with  a  very  mixed  sentiment  in  other 
respects,  we  could  not  but  feel  that  here  lay  more  insight  into  the 
elements  of  human  nature,  and  a  more  poetically  perfect  combin- 
ing of  these,  than  in  all  the  other  fictitious  literature  of  our  gener- 
ation. In  Goethe's  works,  chronologically  arranged,  we  see  this 
above  all  things:  a  mind  working  itself  into  clearer  and  clearer 


450  THE  DRAMA 

freedom,  gaining  a  more  and  more  perfect  dominion  of  its  world. 
"  Werther  "  we  call  the  voice  of  the  world's  despair ;  passionate, 
uncontrollable  is  this  voice ;  not  yet  melodious  and  supreme  —  as 
nevertheless  we  at  length  hear  it  in  the  wild  apocalyptic  "  Faust!' 
like  a  death-song  of  departing  worlds;  no  voice  of  joyful  '  morn- 
ing stars  singing  together '  over  a  Creation,  but  of  red,  nigh-ex- 
tinguished, midnight  stars,  in  spheral  swan-melody,  proclaiming, 
'  It  is  ended/  In  the  next  period  we  have  what  might  be  styled 
Pagan  or  JEthenic  in  character ;  meaning  thereby  an  anthropomor- 
phic character  akin  to  that  of  old  Greece  and  Rome.  '  Wilhelm 
Meister '  is  of  that  stamp :  warm,  hearty,  sunny,  human  endeavor, 
a  free  recognition  of  Life  in  its  depth,  variety,  and  majesty;  as 
yet  no  divinity  recognized  there.  Also,  the  '  Venetian  Epigrams ' 
are  of  the  like  Old  Ethenic  tone  —  musical,  joyfully  strong;  true, 
yet  not  the  whole  truth.  The  Old  World  is  now  in  ashes ;  doubt 
has  been  reduced  to  denial.  But  after  the  smoke  and  flame  are 
blown  away,  the  sun  shines  clear  again  over  the  ruin.  In  the 
third  and  final  period,  melodious  reverence  becomes  triumphant. 
"  Faust  "  is  saved,  redeemed.  What  all  must  admire  in  Goethe  is 
his  utmost  clearness,  all-piercing  faculty  of  vision.  A  nobler 
power  of  insight  than  this  of  Goethe  you  in  vain  look  for,  since 
Shakespeare  passed  away.  For  Goethe,  as  for  Shakespeare,  the 
world  lies  all  translucent.  Again,  we  must  admire  in  both,  but 
especially  in  Goethe,  an  extraordinary  "  Figurativeness,"  for  this 
grand  light-giving  intellect,  as  all  such  are,  is  an  imaginative  one. 
Because  of  the  spell  of  such  a  powerful  imagination,  perennial, 
as  a  possession  forever,  Goethe's  history  and  writings  abide :  a 
thousand-voiced  '  melody  of  wisdom/  which  he  that  has  ears  may 
hear.  He  who  was  of  compass  to  know  and  feel  more  than  any 
other  man,  this  is  the  record  of  his  knowledge  and  feeling." 

Criticism  by  Bishop  Spalding. — "  Goethe,  whom  the  consent 
of  the  enlightened  has  placed  in  the  narrow  circle  of  the  few  really 
great  minds  of  the  world,  was  not  an  ideal  man.  He  had  even 
grave  faults.  In  his  relations  with  women  he  was  not  always 
either  wise  or  moral.  He  never  wholly  outgrew  the  influence 
of  Spinoza,  Voltaire,  and  Rousseau.  He  was  not  a  Christian. 
In  the  presence  of  his  country's  awful  humiliations  he  remained 
passive  and  seemingly  indifferent,  consented  even  to  receive  the 
decoration  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  from  Napoleon,  in  the  hour 


GOETHE 

of  his  triumph  over  Germany.     In  fact,  he  dearly  loved  a  king 
or  a  duke,  however  uninteresting  or  vulgar  the  man  might  be. 
They  who  would  make  him  a  demi-god,  do  not  see  him  as  he 
is ;  and  he  is  great  enough  as  he  is,  not  to  need  the  douhtful  help 
of  false  praise.     Even  as  a  writer  he  is  not  without  serious  de- 
fects.    It  is  only  in  his  best  lyrics  that  he  is  altogether  admirable. 
In  his  prose  he  is  not  (infrequently  diffuse,  commonplace,  tiresome 
even.     As  he  grew  older  he  became  the  victim  of  allegory,  sym- 
bolism, and  didacticism.     Few  find  "  Wilhelm  Meister  "  an  inter- 
esting novel,  and  still  fewer  can  read  the  second  part  of  "  Faust  " 
at  all.     Yet,  find  fault  with  him  as  one  may,  he  is,  both  as  a  man 
and  as  an  author,  worthy  of  the  most  serious  study,  for  the  world 
has  had  few  men  who  teach  so  well  the  things  we  all  most  need 
to  learn.     His  industry  was  unwearying,  his  sympathies  were  all- 
embracing,   and   whatever  concerned  man   interested   him.     His 
aim,  which  he  never  lost  sight  of  even  for  a  moment,  was  to  up- 
build his  own  being,  to  raise,  as  he  said,  as  high  as  possible  the 
apex  of  the  pyramid  whose  base  and  foundation  had  been  given 
him.     His  ideal  is  life  in  its  completeness,  life  brought  into  har- 
mony with  all  that  is  true,  good  and  fair.     Think  of  living,  is  his 
motto  —  Live  in  the  whole,  in  God  and  in  all  that  He  has  made. 
Whatever  he  does,  and  his  occupations  are  of  the  most  varied 
kind,  he   always  holds   in   view   his  own   self-culture.     He   was 
Counselor  of  a  Grand  Duke,  Minister  of  Public  Instruction,  su- 
perintendent of  the  theatre,  and  of  public  works,  a  scientist,  an 
antiquarian,  a  critic  of  literature  and  of  art,  as  well  as  a  poet,  a 
dramatist,  and  a  novelist.     He  practiced  drawing,  painting  and 
engraving.     He  strove  to  make  himself  a  sculptor.     He  studied 
everything,  and  sought  to  find  in  everything  he  did  or  learned, 
the  means  of  his  own  improvement.     In  power  of  imagination  he 
is  inferior  to  Shakespeare,  but  he  is  his  superior  in  culture,  in 
seriousness  of  purpose,  and  in  the  painstaking  care  with  which  he 
followed  his  vocation,  throughout  a  long  life,  even  to  the  very 
end.     He   was   not   only   acquainted    with   the   best   which    was 
known,  but  he  had   studied  human   life   in   all   its   phases,  had 
meditated  profoundly  on  all  the  great  problems,  had  traveled  and 
beheld  the  masterpieces  of  art,  had  observed  everything,  investi- 
gated everything.     His  thoughts  are  elevated  and  profound ;  his 
attitude  toward  the  world  is  uniformly  tolerant  and  kindly:  his 
style  is  classic.     He  is  full  of  patience,  courage,  and  cheerfulness. 


452 


THE  DRAMA 


His  appreciativeness  and  interest  are  active  and  enlightened.  His 
faith  in  reason  is  absolute ;  his  poetic  insight  and  inspiration  are 
deep  and  genuine;' his  moral  teaching  is  wholesome  and  invigor- 
ating. If  not  a  Christian,  he  is  still  less  a  denier  and  scoffer.  On 
the  contrary,  the  spirit  in  which  he  thinks  and  strives  is  that  of 
modesty,  reverence,  and  self-renunciation,  of  mildness,  sympathy, 
and  helpfulness.  He  is  a  builder,  not  a  destroyer;  a  diffuser  of 
light  and  sweetness,  not  a  sower  of  discord  and  hatred.  His 
coldness  is  apparent  only;  his  selfishness  is  that  of  the  man  of 
genius,  whose  work  is  imperative,  whose  task  is  imposed  by  a 
master  who  must  be  obeyed.  Of  the  poets,  he  is  the  greatest 
moralist  and  the  most  suggestive  thinker.  He  may  be  called  the 
creator  of  the  literature  of  Germany ;  he  is  the  author  of  the 
best  educational  novel,  and  of  one  of  the  few  world-dramas.  He 
gave  the  impulse  which  led  Scott  to  write  the  Waverly  novels, 
and  he  was  the  inspirer  of  Carlyle,  who,  however,  never,  at- 
tained the  clearness  of  vision,  the  repose,  the  breadth,  the  amenity, 
the  kindliness,  and  sanity  of  the  master.  He  is  less  intense  than 
Dante,  who  was  too  preoccupied  with  the  hatreds  and  strifes  of 
his  age;  he  is  more  conscious  of  a  high  purpose  than  Shakes- 
peare, who  hardly  seems  to  have  personal  views  at  all,  who  comes 
so  near  saying  everything  that  it  is  difficult  to  divine  his  real 
thoughts.  Goethe  knows  what  he  wants,  and  he  perceives  clearly 
the  means  by  which  his  aims  are  realized." 

Henrik  Ibsen.^He  was  born  at  Skien,  Norway,  in  1828. 
He  studied  medicine,  but;  later  on,  applied  himself  to  literature. 
Few  literary  men  have  shown  greater  zeal  and  devotion  to  their 
life-work.  Already  he  has  earned  the  title  of  "  Shakespeare 
of  the  North."  His  dramas  (outside  the  drama  there  is  very 
little  from  his  pen)  are  translated  into  every  modern  language. 
The  best  known  plays  are  "  Love's  Comedy,"  "  Brand," 
"Ghosts/'  the  "Master-Builder"  and  "An  Enemy  of  the 
People." 

Criticism  by  William  H.  Sheran. —  It  is  customary  to  refer 
to  Ibsen  as  the  modern  Shakespeare.  Certainly,  it  may  be  said 
of  him  that  no  foreign  playwright  has  had  such  welcome,  both  in 


IBSEN 


453 


England  and  America,  as  has  Ibsen.  His  plays  have  been  trans- 
lated several  times  into  English,  and  our  best;  critics  are  of  the 
opinion  that  even  in  translation  they  outrank  anything  produced 
by  our  native  genius  during  the  past  two  hundred  years,  if  they 
have  not  actually  won  a  place  beside  the  immortal  production! 
of  the  Bard  of  Avon.  Ibsen  served  a  brief  apprenticeship  in 
"  Catilina  "  and  the  "  Feast  at  Solhaug,"  when  the  skill  of  the 
master  workman  began  to  assert  itself;  for  the  "Vikings"  and 
"  Ghosts,"  which  followed  soon  after,  are  the  perfect  flowering 
of  his  genius.  In  selecting  materials,  Ibsen,  like  Shakespeare, 
made  use  of  the  early  history  of  his  country  ;  thus,  the  "  Vikings  " 
resembles  "  King  Lear  "  and  "  Cymbeline."  In  this  connection 
it  may  be  said  that  no  playwright  illustrates  better  than  Ibsen 
the  dramatic  possibilities  of  northern  mythology.  But  Ibsen, 
unlike  Shakespeare,  traveled  in  foreign  lands,  and  studied  human 
life  and  the  masterpieces  of  art  in  France,  Italy,  and  other 
countries.  Yet,  true  to  his  Norwegian  or  Teutonic  temperament, 
he  admires  moral  beauty  rather  than  sensuous  beauty,  and  dis- 
appointed in  his  quest  after  moral  beauty,  he  distrusted  his  fel- 
low man  and  became  a  pessimist  of  the  most  pronounced  type. 
He  is  a  pessimist  who  distrusts  his  fellow  man,  and  who  permits 
his  pessimism  to  assume  an  iconoclastic  attitude  toward  the  exist- 
ing conventionalities  of  society.  In  his  greater  tragedies  there  is 
an  echo  of  Shelley's  hatred  for  the  existing  order  of  things.  But, 
although  a  pessimist,  he  does  not  proceed  to  the  lengths  of 
Schopenhauer  —  he  does  not  teach  that  life  itself  is  an  evil,  or  that 
happiness  is  unattainable.  He  believes,  on  the  contrary,  that 
man  would  be  happy  under  other  conditions.  He 'believes  that 
if  man  is  robbed  of  happiness,  it  is  because  of  society,  the  con- 
ventional rules  and  ideas  of  duty,  which  starve  and  slay  man's 
moral  nature.  This  is  exactly  the  plea  of  Shelley.  And  one 
reason  for  the  popularity  of  Ibsen  is,  that  such  doctrine  has  struck 
a  responsive  chord  in  the  English  speaking  world.  Not  that  the 
English  race  would  do  away  with  the  accepted  canons  of  right 
conduct,  but  there  is  a  feeling  that  the  accepted  conventionalities 
of  modern  society  exact  too  much  —  impose  too  much  restraint. 
Ibsen,  therefore,  quarrels  with  man  for  retaining  these  tra- 
ditional conventionalities  —  his  pessimism  is  the  pessimism  of  in- 
dignation ;  he  is  indignant  because  man  allows  himself  to  be 
swayed  bv  a  social  tyrant.  Another  characteristic  is  Ibsen's  lack 


THE  DRAMA 

of  sympathy  with  any  kind  of  suffering.  He  believes  that  man's 
road  to  greatness  lies  through  pain  and  sorrow ;  the  discipline  of 
suffering  is  needed  for  the  development  of  a  healthy  moral  na- 
ture. Therein  we  find  an  echo  of  Shakespeare  —  sweet  are  the 
uses  of  adversity.  In  pain,  adversity  and  oppression  the  highest 
virtues  of  our  race  grow  and  blossom. 

Finally,  the  critic  of  Ibsen  notices  how  much  he  has  accom- 
plished with  commonplace  material ;  his  characters  are  not  the 
great  personages  of  the  earth,  kings,  queens,  statesmen,  heroes, 
etc.,  they  are  taken  from  the  lower  walks  of  life ;  yet  his  dramas 
hold  an  audience  spellbound  by  economy  of  attention,  the  skilful 
management  of  plot,  the  subtle  analysis  of  motive,  and  a  wierd, 
grim  atmosphere  like  that  which  hangs  over  a  volcano  ready  to 
belch  forth  at  any  time  "  redounding  smoke  and  ruddy  flame." 
Perhaps  there  is  not  sufficient  relief  afforded  to  the  audience  from 
this  morbid  intensity,  and,  therefore,  Shakespeare,  if  not  so 
strictly  artistic,  is  far  more  natural  by  introducing  clowns  and 
episodes  as  a  needed  relief.  But  Ibsen  writes  the  drama  with  a 
purpose,  whereas,  Shakespeare  holds  up  the  mirror  to  nature, 
smiling  amid  her  tears.  In  either  case  tragedy  has  gained  the 
highest  peaks  in  the  mountain  range  of  human  passion. 

Hermann  Sudermann. —  He  was  born  at  Matzicken,  East 
Prussia,  in  1857.  By  common  consent  he  is  regarded  as  one 
of  the  world's  greatest  dramatists,  promising  to  excel  even  his 
own  gifted  countryman,  the  creator  of  Faust.  He  is  a  disciple 
of  Ibsen.  His  best  known  plays  are  the  "  Joy  of  Living," 
"  The  End  of  Sodom,"  "  Home,"  and  "  Honor." 

Criticism  by  William  Lindemann. — "  The  fame  of  Hermann 
Sudermann  began  with  the  drama  called  *  Honor,'  which  was  pub- 
lished in  1889.  The  technique  of  this  drama  followed  traditional 
lines,  although  throughout  the  work  we  see  evidences  of  the  Ro- 
mantic movement  or  '  return  to  nature,'  which  characterizes  the 
modern  drama  in  Germany  and  elsewhere.  The  thesis  of  the 
play  is  revolutionary  in  the  extreme,  an  echo  of  the  pessimism  of 
Ibsen.  It  amounts  to  this,  as  stated  in  Siidermann's  own  words : 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  honor.  What  we  call  honor  is  merely 
the  shadow  which  we  cast  when  the  bright  sun  of  popular  ap- 


SIIDERMANN  455 

plause  shines  full  upon  us.  The  saddest  feature  about  '  honor  ' 
is  that  there  are  as  many  kinds  as  there  are  classes  of  society. 
But  in  passing  this  judgment  the  dramatist  has  forgotten  to  note 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  '  guilty  honor,'  the  shadow  cast  by 
evil  deeds  when  the  light  of  conscience  falls  on  them.  There  is 
throughout  the  play  a  shameful  realism  which  paints  the  lower 
classes  in  all  their  viciousness  and  naked  deformity.  The  author 
seems  to  take  a  special  delight  in  creating  harrowing  scenes  such 
as  excite  one's  indignation  rather  than  one's  pity.  Similarly,  in 
the  '  End  of  Sodom,'  although  the  avowed  purpose  of  the  author 
is  to  cause  a  wholesome  terror  of  evil  in  the  minds  of  those  dis- 
posed thereto.  The  author  would  thus  work  a  moral  reforma- 
tion by  painting  the  immoral  in  the  most  hideous  and  revolting 
light.  But  this  position  cannot  be  maintained  either  from  the 
standpoint  of  good  art  or  good  morals.  For,  first  of  all,  accord- 
ing to  the  laws  of  art,  a  character  must  be  possible ;  and  the  hero 
of  the  '  End  of  Sodom-'  is  an  impossible  character ;  he  is  abso- 
lutely unthinkable.  Again,  the  highest  art  while  yielding  to  us 
the  largest  amount  of  aesthetic  pleasure,  should  never  wound  our 
moral  sentiments  and  feelings.  Yet,  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end  of  this  drama,  the  author  makes  such  a  mistake  —  he  leads  us 
into  a  world  from  whose  stifling  atmosphere  we  would  as  gladly 
escape  as  from  a  charnel  house.  By  placing  the  morals  of  the 
upper  and  lower  classes  in  opposition,  Siidermann  secures  his 
most  powerful  dramatic  effects.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  the 
artist  has  presented  to  us  the  most  powerful  scenes  that  passion 
can  display ;  although  we  must  confess  that  many  of  them  are  at 
the  same  time  inartistic  and  gruesome.  The  contrast  and  con- 
flict of  classes  are  splendid  material  for  the  modern  dramatist,  and 
Siidermann  has  taken  advantage  of  it." 

"  In  the  tragedy  called  '  John/  Siidermann  attempted  the  his- 
torical drama  with  some  success.  Three  distinct  motives  arc  dis- 
closed in  it :  the  first  is  the  love  of  Salome,  the  daughter  of  Hero- 
dias,  for  John  the  Baptist ;  the  second  is  the  desire  of  the  Baptist 
for  the  Holy  One;  the  third  is  the  story  of  Josephus  that  John 
was  murdered  because  they  feared  the  effect  of  his  socialistic 
speeches.  Only  the  first  motive  is  dominant  throughout  the  play. 
The  others  fail,  or  rather  are  brought  to  no  definite  issue.  This 
drama,  like  the  preceding,  reveals  Siidermann's  mastery  over  the 
springs  of  passion ;  also,  a  decided  improvement  in  character- 


456  THE  DRAMA 

creation.     The  technique  or  finish  indicates  that  Siidermann  has 
attained  the  zenith  of  his  glory  as  an  artist.' 

"  The  proper  sphere  or  province  of  Siidermann  is  the  romance. 
'Frau  Sorge '  is,  on  the  whole,  his  finest  work ;  he  does  not 
dabble  in  modern  problems,  socialistic  or  ethical,  nor  does  he  go 
back  to  the  infant  ideals  of  Romanticism.  In  this  romantic  novel 
he  teaches  the  supreme  lesson  of  life  • —  the  performance  of  duty. 
In  the  struggle  between  duty  and  inclination,  his  ideal  character 
is  always  on  the  side  of  the  former,  and  attains  symmetry  of 
growth  and  perfection  of  moral  nature  in  the  divinely  appointed 
way —  the  way  of  trial  and  toil  and  suffering.  Sudermann,  in 
spite  of  his  many  and  obvious  defects,  will  doubtless  end  his 
career  by  winning  the  very  highest  place  in  German  dramatic 
literature." 

Moli$re. —  He  was  born  at  Paris  in  1622,  and  died  there  in 
1673.  He  was  a  graduate  of  the  Jesuit  College  in  Paris.  At 
the  early  age  of  twenty-three  he  began  to  devote  his  entire 
time  to  acting  and  play-writing.  He  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  a  troop  of  actors,  performing  both  in  the  provinces 
and  in  Paris  where  he  settled  down.  He  is  by  far  the  most 
celebrated  of  the  French  dramatists,  occupying  the  same  place 
in  French  comedy  that  Shakespeare  does  in  English  tragedy. 

Criticism  by  Rene  Doumic. — "  Moliere  is  a  genius  purely 
French  or  Gallic.  His  literary  ancestors  were  not  Greeks,  as  in 
the  case  of  Racine,  nor  Romans  and  Spaniards,  as  in  the  case  of 
Corneille,  but  our  own  story-tellers,  the  ancient  authors  of  French 
legend  and  song,  that  hallowed  group  of  which  Rabelais  and 
Reguier  are  worthy  representatives.  The  inspiration  drawn  from 
those  old  fables  and  stories  pervades  Moliere's  work,  traceable 
alike  in  his  minor  pieces  and  in  his  most  important  dramas.  It  is 
a  grave  mistake,  sometimes  made,  to  distinguish  between  the  Mo- 
liere of  high  and  low  grade  comedy.  The  most  we  can  affirm 
is  that  while  the  method  differs  somewhat,  the  spirit  and  manner- 
isms remain  the  same ;  so  that  we  may  recognize  in  "  the  Misan- 
thrope "  and  "  The  Fourbiers  De  Scapin  "  the  hand  of  the  same 
author.  Moliere's  relationship  to  the  older  Gallic  authors  of 
comedy  is  also  revealed  in  his  freedom  of  treatment ;  he  has  the 


MOLIERE  457 

greatest  contempt  for  traditional  rules  and  conventionalities.  He 
writes :  '  You  are  a  gay  lot  with  your  rules  and  conventionali- 
ties whereby  you  only  embarrass  the  ignorant  and  stultify  us  more 
and  more  every  day.  For  my  part,  I  adopt  only  one  rule  —  is  it 
not  the  greatest  of  all?  —  to  please?'  This  freedom  of  treatment 
is  manifested  not  only  in  the  construction  of  the  drama  but  in  the 
author's  manner  of  viewing  life,  a  view  so  comprehensive  as  to 
include  all  that  is  dark,  unlovely  and  frivolous.  One  looks  in 
vain  throughout  Moliere  for  those  splendid  poetic  impulses 
which  are  manifest  in  Aristophanes  and  Shakespeare  —  outbreaks 
of  passion  which  often  occur  in  the  midst  of  the  grossest  buf- 
foonery. Apart  from  so  many  characters  capable  of  exciting 
laughter  or  ridicule,  there  are  none  illumined  by  the  rays  of  the 
ideal.  Among  his  numerous  coquettes  and  prudes,  only  Henriette 
represents  true  feminine  virtue,  and  she  is  lacking  in  the  ideal 
grace  and  charm  of  a  woman.  How  much  different  in  this  re- 
spect are  the  women  of  Shakespeare !  Moliere  considers  that  the 
ridiculous  is  essential  to  man's  nature.  According  to  him,  it  is 
indissolubly  wedded  even  to  virtue.  Hence,  he  is  never  afflicted 
at  the  sight  of  it ;  the  sentiment  he  reveals  in  the  presence  of  vice 
is  not  anger  but  only  curiosity.  He  takes  little  care  to  preach 
virtue  or  to  attach  any  moral  lessons  to  the  conclusion  of  his 
drama.  In  fact,  Moliere  gives  no  precepts,  he  simply  chronicles 
facts.  He  knows  that  in  reality  evil  men  who  are  the  most  clever, 
are  also  the  strongest,  at  least  in  most  cases.  He  demonstrates 
this ;  and  the  only  lesson  we  may  learn  from  his  plays  is  to  mis- 
trust therri.  But  we  recognize  Moliere's  Gallic  ancestry  in  his 
gaiety  of  spirit  and  the  tone  of  his  raillery.  With  him,  however, 
raillery  is  often  cruel.  Certain  misfortunes  which  are  tragic  and 
which  should  excite  sentiments  of  pity,  have  only  a  comic  side  for 
Moliere.  He  treats  as  comic  some  materials  which  rightly  be- 
long to  tragedy." 

"  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  Moliere  is  the  greatest  French 
comedian,  the  impression  we  get  from  his  work  is  one  of  sadness 
and  bitterness.  This  is  not  a  proof  that  the  author  was  morose, 
or  that  his  laugh  was  not  genuine.  It  is  only  a  proof  that  he 
was  a  profound  student  of  human  nature,  penetrating  more  deep- 
ly, perhaps,  than  any  other  author  into  the  secrets  of  the  human 
heart.  For  sadness  is  the  last  word  of  all  profound  investigation 
of  life.  If  we  study  the  art  of  Moliere  from  the  viewpoint  of 


458  THE  DRAMA 

external  qualities  the  merit  that  strikes  us  most  is  deftness  of 
touch  and  a  certain  magnificence  of  execution.  His  characters 
are  exhibited  on  a  grand  scale,  in  a  somewhat  princely  fashion ; 
grand  traits  are  pictured  at  the  expense  of  minor  tones  and  tints, 
and  these  almost  overshadow  the  finer  points  of  character.  Each 
scene  is  made  up  of  one  idea,  and  one  only  —  this  with  a  view  to 
produce  but  one  effect.  Richness  and  magnificence  of  language 
accompany  the  elaborate  scenes,  and  add  much  to  a  style  that  is 
strong,  firm,  and  natural.  Moliere  adopts  a  free  and  easy  style  of 
versification,  such  as  becomes  the  comic  dialogue.  In  this  par- 
ticular he  broke  with  tradition.  There  are  some  violations  of 
idiom,  forced  turns  of  phrase  and  wild,  uncouth  metaphor  — 
errors  due  in  a  measure  to  the  astonishing  rapidity  with  which 
he  wrote.  Then,  too,  it  must  be  remembered  that  he  wrote  not 
for  reading  but  for  recitation,  and  the  stage  has  its  own  rules 
and  liberties  peculiarly  its  own.  Properly  speaking,  Moliere  has 
no  style,  for  style  with  him  varies  with  every  character  and  shapes 
itself  according  to  such  demands.  In  this  respect  Moliere  proves 
his  kinship  with  the  great  masters  of  dramatic  art.  The  humor 
of  Moliere  while  sometimes  of  a  common-place  order,  never  de- 
generates into  punning ;  he  indulges  in  all  kinds  of  pleasantry, 
and  his  jokes  are  sometimes  perpetrated  with  thrilling  effect." 

"  Moliere  is  without  question  the  greatest  of  comic  writers  in 
a  nation  devoted  to  comedy.  His  plays  reflecting  the  national 
love  of  art,  are  perfect  models  of  artistic  skill :  more  than  this,  they 
are  a  perfect  mirror  of  the  society  of  his  own  age,  and  of  humani- 
ty in  all  ages." 

William  Shakespeare. —  He  was  born  at  Stratford-on-Avon 
1564,  and  died  there  in  1616.  Very  few  facts  concerning  his 
life  are  known.  Where  or  when  Shakespeare  was  educated 
is  unknown.  About  1587  Shakespeare  went  to  London  and 
sought  his  fortune  in  connection  with  the  stage.  His  relation- 
ship with  the  Globe  and  Blackfriars  is  well  known.  He  gained 
considerable  wealth,  the  result  of  his  labors  both  as  an  actor 
and  author.  Of  the  numerous  plays  left  by  him  the  best  known 
tragedies  are  "  Othello,"  "King  Lear,"  "Hamlet,"  "Mac- 
beth" and  "Julius  Caesar";  the  best  known  comedies  are. 


SHAKESPEARE 

41  Taming  of  the  Shrew,"  "Merchant  of  Venice,"  ^Measure 
for  Measure,"  "  Comedy  of  Errors  "  and  the  "  Tempest." 

Criticism  of  Shakespeare. —  The  amount  of  criticism  dealing 
with  Shakespeare,  if  collected,  would  easily  fill  a  small  libraiy. 
Critics  of  every  nation  and  age  have  vied  with  each  other  in 
sounding  the  note  of  praise.  By  universal  consent  he  is 
styled  the  greatest  of  dramatists,  unapproached  by  any  ancient 
or  modern  writer.  Among  English  critics,  Dryden,  Johnson, 
Pope,  Carlyle,  Hazlitt,  White,  Lowell,  Moulton,  Mabie,  Dow- 
den,  have  given  special  attention  to  Shakespeare.  And  foreign 
critics,  like  Goethe,  Schlegel,  Ulrici,  not  to  mention  a  host 
of  others,  have  gleaned  in  the  same  fruitful  field.  A  volume 
is  needed  to  deal  adequately  with  such  a  theme. 

/  Criticism  by  James  Russell  Lowell. — "  It  may  be  reckoned 
one  of  the  rarest  pieces. of  good  luck  that  ever  fell  to  the  share 
of  a  race,  that  (as  was  true  of  Shakespeare)  its  most  rhythmic 
genius,  its  acutest  intellect,  its  profoundest  imagination,  and  its 
healthiest  understanding  should  have  been  combined  in  one  man, 
and  that  he  should  have  arrived  at  the  full  development  of  his 
powers  at  the  moment  when  the  material  in  which  he  was  to  work 
-  that  wonderful  composite  called  English,  the  best  result  of  the 

X  confusion  of  tongues  —  was  in  its  freshest  perfection.  The  Eng- 
lish speaking  nations  should  build  a  monument  to  the  misguided 
enthusiasts  of  the  Plain  of  Shinar;  for,  as  the  mixture  of  many 
bloods  seems  to  have  made  them  the  most  vigorous  of  modern 
races,  so  has  the  mingling  of  divers  speeches  given  them  a  lan- 
guage which  is  perhaps  the  noblest  vehicle  of  poetic  thought  that 
ever  existed.  Had  Shakespeare  been  born  fifty  years  earlier,  he 
would  have  been  cramped  by  a  book-language  not  yet  flexible 
enough  for  the  demands  of  rhythmic  emotion,  not  yet  sufficiently 
popularized  for  the  natural  and  familiar  expression  of  supreme 
thought,  not  yet  so  rich  in  metaphysical  phrase  as  to  render  pos- 
sible that  ideal  representation  of  the  great  passions,  which  is  the 
aim  and  end  of  Art,  not  yet  subdued  by  practice  and  general  con- 
sent to  a  definiteness  of  accentuation  essential  to  ease  and  con- 
gruity  of  metrical  arrangement.  Had  he  been  born  fifty  years 


460  THE  DRAMA 

later,  his  ripened  manhood  would  have  found  itself  in  an  Eng- 
land absorbed  and  angry  with  the  solution  of  political  and  re- 
ligious problems,  from  which  his  whole  nature  was  averse,  in- 
stead of  that  Elizabethan  social  system,  ordered  and  planetary  in 
functions  and  degrees  as  the  angelic  hierarchy  of  the  Areopagite, 
where  his  contemplative  eye  could  crowd  itself  with  various  and 
brilliant  pictures  and  whence  his  impartial  brain  —  one  lobe  of 
which  seems  to  have  been  Normanly  refined  and  the  other  Saxon- 
ly  Sagacious  —  could  draw  its  morals  of  courtly  and  worldly 
wisdom,  its  lessons  of  prudence  and  magnanimity.  In  estimating 
Shakespeare,  it  should  never  be  forgotten,  that,  like  Goethe,  he 
was  essentially  observer  and  artist,  and  incapable  of  partisanship. 
The  passions,  actions,  sentiments,  whose  character  and  results  he 
delighted  to  watch  and  to  reproduce,  are  those  of  man  in  society 
as  it  existed ;  and  it  no  more  occurred  to  him  to  question  the  right 
of  that  society  to  exist  than  to  criticise  the  divine  ordination  of 
the  seasons.  His  business  was  with  men  as  they  were,  not  with 
man  as  he  ought  to  be  —  with  the  human  soul  as  it  is  shaped  or 
twisted  into  character  by  the  complex  experience  of  life,  not  in  its 
abstract  essence,  as  something  to  be  saved  or  lost.  The  scope 
of  the  higher  drama  is  to  represent  life,  not  every-day  life,  it  is 
true,  but  life  lifted  above  the  plane  of  bread-and-butter  associa- 
tions, by  nobler  reaches  of  language,  by  the  influence  at  once  in- 
spiring and  modulating  of  verse,  by  an  intenser  play  of  passion 
condensing  that  misty  mixture  of  feeling  and  reflection  which 
makes  the  ordinary  atmosphere  of  existence  into  flashes  of 
thought  and  phrase  whose  brief,  but  terrible,  illumination  prints 
the  outworn  landscape  of  every-day  upon  our  brains,  with  its 
little  motives  and  mean  results,  in  lines  of  tell-tale  fire.  The 
moral  office  of  tragedy  is  to  show  us  our  own  weaknesses  ideal- 
ized in  grander  figures  and  more  awful  results  —  to  teach  us  that 
what  we  pardon  in  ourselves  as  venial  faults,  if  they  seem  to  have 
but  slight  influence  on  our  immediate  fortunes,  have  arms  as 
long  as  those  of  kings,  and  reach  forward  to  the  catastrophe  of 
our  lives,  that  they  are  dry- rotting  the  very  fibre  of  will  and  con- 
science, so  that,  if  we  should  be  brought  to  the  test  of  a  great 
temptation  or  a  stringent  emergency,  we  must  be  involved  in  a 
ruin  as  sudden  and  complete  as  that  we  shudder  at  in  the  unreal 
scene  of  the  theatre.  But  the  primary  object  of  a  tragedy  is  not 
to  inculcate  a  formal  moral.  Representing  life,  it  teaches,  like 


SIl-lKHSPEARE  461 

life,  by  indirection,  by  those  nods  and  winks  that  are  thrown 
away  on  us  blind  horses  in  such  profusion.  We  may  learn,  to  be 
sure,  plenty  of  lessons  from  Shakespeare.  We  are  not  likely  to 
have  kingdoms  to  divide,  crowns  foretold  us  by  weird  sisters,  a 
father's  death  to  avenge,  or  to  kill  our  wives  from  jealousy;  but 
Lear  may  teach  us  to  draw  the  line  more  clearly  between  a  wise 
generosity  and  a  loose-handed  weakness  of  giving;  Macbeth, 
how  one  sin  involves  another,  and  forever  another,  by  a  fatal 
parthenogenesis,  and  that  the  key  which  unlocks  forbidden  doors 
to  our  will  or  passion  leaves  a  stain  on  the  hand,  that  may  not  be 
so  dark  as  blood,  but  that  will  not  out ;  Hamlet,  that  all  the  noblest 
gifts  of  person,  temperament,  and  mind  slip  like  sand  through 
the  grasp  of  an  infirm  purpose ;  Othello,  that  the  perpetual  silt  of 
some  one  weakness,  the  eddies  of  a  suspicious  temper  depositing 
their  one  impalpable  layer  after  another,  may  build  up  a  shoal  on 
which  an  heroic  life  and  an  otherwise  magnanimous  nature  may 
bilge  and  go  to  pieces.  All  this  we  may  learn,  and  much  more, 
and  Shakespeare  was  no  doubt  well  aware  of  all  this,  and  more; 
but  I  do  not  believe  that  he  wrote  his  plays  with  any  such  didac- 
tic purpose.  He  knew  human  nature  too  well  not  to  know  that 
one  thorn  of  experience  is  worth  a  whole  wilderness  of  warning 
—  that,  where  one  man  shapes  his  life  by  precept  and  example, 
there  are  a  thousand  who  have  it  shaped  for  them  by  impulse  and 
by  circumstances.  He  did  not  mean  his  great  tragedies  for  scare- 
crows, as  if  the  nailing  of  one  hawk  to  the  barn-door  would  pre- 
vent the  next  from  coming  down  souse  into  the  hen-yard.  No, 
it  is  not  the  poor  bleaching  victim  hung  up  to  moult  its  draggled 
feathers  in  the  rain  that  he  wishes  to  show  us.  He  loves  the 
hawk-nature  as  well  as  the  hen-nature;  and  if  he  is  unequalled  in 
anything,  it  is  in  that  sunny  breadth  of  view,  that  impregnability 
of  reason,  that  looks  down  all  ranks  and  conditions  of  men,  all 
fortunes  and  misfortunes,  with  the  equal  eye  of  the  pure  artist." 

Criticism  by  Thomas  Shaw. — "  A  general  conception  of  the 
dramatic  genius  of  Shakespeare  must  be  founded  upon  an  exami- 
nation of  all  his  pieces ;  and  while  the  historical  dramas  show  how 
he  could  free  his  mind  from  the  trammels  imposed  by  the  neces- 
sity of  adhering  to  real  facts  and  persons,  the  romantic  portion  of 
his  pieces,  or  those  founded  upon  fiction,  will  equally  prove  that 
the  freedom  of  an  ideal  subject  did  not  deprive  him  of  the  strictest 


462  THE  DRAMA 

fidelity  to  general  nature.  The  characters  that  move  through  the 
action  of  these  latter  dramas  exhibit  the  same  consummate  ap- 
preciation of  the  general  and  the  individual  in  humanity ;  and 
though  he  has  occasionally  stepped  over  the  boundary  of  ordinary 
human  nature,  and  has  created  a  multitude  of  supernatural  be- 
ings, fairies,  spirits,  witches  and  other  creatures  of  the  imagina- 
tion, even  in  these,  the  severest  consistency  and  the  strictest  veri- 
similitude never  for  a  moment  abandoned  him.  They  are  always 
constantcs  sibi;  we  know  that  such  -beings  do  not  and  cannot 
exist ;  but  we  irresistibly  feel,  in  reading  the  scenes  in  which  they 
appear,  that  if  they  did  exist,  they  could  not  exist  other  than  as 
he  has  painted  them.  The  data  being  established,  the  consequen- 
ces, to  the  most  remote  and  trivial  details,  flow  from  them  in  a 
manner  that  no  analysis  can  gainsay.  In  the  mode  of  delineating 
passion  and  feeling  Shakespeare  proceeds  differently  from  all 
other  dramatic  authors.  They,  even  the  greatest  among  them, 
create  a  personage  by  accumulating  in  it  all  such  traits  as  their 
reading  and  observation  show  to  usually  accompany  the  funda- 
mental elements  which  go  to  form  its  constitution :  and  thus  they 
all,  more  or  less,  fall  into  the  error  of  making  their  personages 
embodiments  of  such  a  moral  peculiarity.  They  give  us  ad- 
mirable and  complete  monographies  of  ambition,  of  avarice,  of 
hypocracy,  and  the  like.  Moreover,  in  the  expression  of  their 
feelings,  whether  tragic  or  comic,  such  characters  almost  univer- 
sally describe  the  sensations  they  experience.  But  men  and 
women  of  Shakespeare  exactly  resemble  the  men  and  women  of 
strong  emotion  or  other  powerful  moral  impression;  we  indicate 
to  others  what  we  feel,  rather,  and  far  more  powerfully,  by  what 
we  suppress  than  what  we  utter.  In  this  respect  the  men  and 
women  of  Shakespeare  exactly  resemble  the  men  and  women  of 
real  life,  and  not  the  men  and  women  of  the  stage.  Nor  has  he 
ever  fallen  into  the  common  error  of  forgetting  the  infinite  com- 
plexity of  human  character.  If  we  analyze  any  one  of  the  promi- 
nent personages  of  Shakespeare,  though  we  may  often  at  first 
sight  perceive  in  it  the  predominance  of  some  one  quality  or  pas- 
sion, on  a  nearer  view  we  shall  find  that  the  complexity  of  its 
moral  being  goes  on  widening  and  deepening  with  every  new 
attempt  on  our  part  to  grasp  or  sound  the  whole  extent  of  its 
individuality. 

"  In  the  expression  of  strong  emotion,  as  well  as  in  the  delinea- 


SlIAKESrEAKE 

tion  of  character,  Shakespeare  is  superior  to  all  other  dramatists, 
superior  to  all  other  poets.  He  never  finds  it  necessary,  in  order 
to  produce  the  effect  he  desires,  to  have  recourse  in  the  one  case  to 
violent  or  declamatory  rhetoric,  or  in  the  other  to  unusual  or  ab- 
normal combinations  of  qualities.  In  him  we  meet  with  no  sen- 
timental assassins,  no  moral  monsters, — 

'  Blessed  with  one  virtue  and  a  thousand  crimes.' 

Without  overstepping  the  ordinary  limits  of  human  experience, 
he  is  always  able  to  interest  or  instruct  us  with  the  exhibition  of 
general  passions  and  feelings,  manifesting  themselves  in  the  way 
we  generally  see  them  in  the  world.  He  is  like  the  great  painter 
of  antiquity,  who  produced  his  ever-varying  effects  by  the  aid  of 
four  simple  colors.  In  the  expression,  too,  he  uniformly  draws, 
at  least  in  the  finest  passages,  his  illustrations  from  the  most  sim- 
ple and  familiar  objects,  from  the  most  ordinary  scenes  of  life. 
When  a  great  occasion  presents  itself,  he  ever  shows  himself 
equal  to  that  occasion.  There  are,  indeed,  in  his  works  many 
passages  where  he  has  allowed  his  taste  for  intellectual  subtleties 
to  get  the  better  of  his  judgment,  and  where  his  passion  for 
playing  upon  words  —  a  passion  which  was  the  literary  vice  of 
the  day,  and  the  effects  of  which  are  traceable  in  the  writings  of 
Bacon  as  well  as  in  his  —  is  permitted  to  cool  the  enthusiasm 
excited  by  the  situation  or  the  feelings  of  the  speaker.  But  the 
indulgence  in  conceits  generally  disappears  in  the  great  culmi- 
nating moments  of  intense  passion :  and  while  we  are  speaking 
of  this  defect  with  due  critical  severity,  we  must  not  forget  that 
there  are  occasions  when  the  intense  moral  agitation  is  not  in- 
compatible with  a  morbid  and  feverish  activity  of  the  intellect, 
and  that  the  most  violent  emotion  sometimes  finds  a  vent  in  the 
intellectual  contortions  of  a  conceit.  Nevertheless,  it  cannot  l>e 
denied  that  Shakespeare  very  often  runs  riot  in  the  indulgence 
of  this  tendency,  to  the  injury  of  the  effect  designed  and  in  defi- 
ance of  the  most  evident  principles  of  good  taste.  His  style  is 
unquestionably  a  very  difficult  one  in  some  respects :  and  this  ob- 
scurity is  not  to  be  attributed,  except  of  course,  in  some  particu- 
lar instances,  to  the  corrupt  state  in  which  his  writings  have 
descended  to  us,  and  still  less  to  the  archaism  or  obsoleteness  of 
his  diction.  Many  of  the  great  dramatists  his  contemporaries. 
for  example  Massinger  and  Ford,  are  in  this  respect  as  different 


464  THE  DRAMA 

from  Shakespeare  as  if  they  had  been  separated  from  him  by  two 
centuries  of  time  —  their  writings  being  as  remarkable  for  the 
limpidity  and  clearness  of  expression  as  his  are  occasionally  for 
its  complexity.  It  is,  therefore,  not  to  the  remoteness  of  the 
period  that  we  must  ascribe  this  peculiarity.  Indeed  in  this  re- 
spect Shakespeare's  language  will  present  nearly  as  much  diffi* 
culty  to  an  English  as  to  a  foreign  student.  We  must  look  for 
the  cause  of  this  in  the  enormously  developed  intellectual  and 
imaginative  faculty  in  the  poet;  leading  him  to  make  metaphor 
of  the  boldest  kind  the  ordinary  tissue  of  his  style.  The  thoughts 
rise  so  fast  under  his  pen,  and  successively  generate  others  with 
such  a  portentous  rapidity,  that  the  reader  requires  almost  as 
great  an  intellectual  vivacity  as  the  poet,  in  order  to  trace  the 
leading  idea  through  the  labyrinth  of  subordinate  illustration. 
In  all  figurative  writing  the  metaphor,  the  image,  is  an  orna- 
ment, something  extraneous  to  the  thought  it  is  intended  to  illus- 
trate, and  may  be  detached  from  it,  leaving  the  fundamental  idea 
intact :  in  Shakespeare  the  metaphor  is  the  very  fabric  of  the 
thought  itself  and  entirely  inseparable  from  it.  His  diction  may 
be  compared  to  some  elaborate  monument  of  the  finest  Gothic 
architecture  in  which  the  superficial  glance  losses  itself  in  an  in- 
extricable maze  of  sculptural  detail  and  fantastically  fretted 
ornamentation,  but  where  a  close  examination  shows  that  every 
pinnacle,  every  buttress,  every  moulding  is  an  essential  member 
of  the  construction.  This  imitation  union  of  the  reason  and  the 
imagination  is  a  peculiarity  common  to  Shakespeare  and  Bacon, 
in  whose  writings  the  severest  logic  is  expressed  in  the  boldest 
metaphor,  and  the  very  titles  of  whose  books  and  the  very  defi- 
nitions of  whose  philosophical  terms  are  frequently  images  of 
the  most  figurative  character.  There  is  assuredly  no  poet,  an- 
cient or  modern,  from  whose  writings  may  be  extracted  such  a 
number  of  profound  and  yet  practical  observations  applicable  to 
the  common  affairs  and  interests  of  life ;  observations  expressed 
with  the  simplicity  of  a  casual  remark,  yet  pregnant  with  the  con- 
densed wisdom  of  philosophy ;  exhibiting  more  than  the  acute- 
ness  of  De  Rochefoucauld,  without  his  cynical  contempt  for  hu- 
manity, and  more  than  practical  good  sense  of  Moliere,  with  a 
far  wider  and  more  universal  applicability.  In  the  picturing  of 
abnormal  and  supernatural  states  of  existence,  as  in  the  delinea- 
tion of  every  phase  of  mental  derangement,  or  the  sentiments 


OF    THE 

UNIVERSITY 

or 

SHAKESPEARE 


and  actions  of  fantastic  and  supernatural  beings,  Shakespeare 
exhibits  the  same  coherency  and  consistency  in  the  midst  of  what 
at  first  sight  appears  altogether  to  transcend  ordinary  experi- 
ence. Every  grade  of  folly,  from  the  verge  of  idiocy  to  the 
most  fantastic  eccentricity,  every  shade  of  moral  perturbation, 
from  the  jealousy  fury  of  Othello  to  the  frenzy  of  Lear  or  the 
not  less  touching  madness  of  Ophelia,  is  represented  in  his  plays 
with  a  fidelity  so  complete  that  the  most  experienced  physiologists 
have  affirmed  that  such  intellectual  disturbances  may  be  studied 
in  his  pages  with  as  much  profit  as  in  the  actual  patients  of  a 
madhouse." 

Other  Dramatists.—  Perhaps  there  is  no  department  of  lit- 
erature so  rich  and  varied  as  the  drama.  Every  nation, 
ancient  as  well  as  modern,  lays  claim  to  excellence  in  gifted 
playwrights  and  stage  productions.  The  student  of  English 
literature  is  familiar  with  the  contemporaries  of  Shakespeare 
-  Marlowe,  Fletcher,  Greene,  Chettle,  Ford,  Massinger,  Beau- 
mont, Webster,  Dekker,  and  many  others.  Continental  litera- 
ture can  boast  a  Schiller  in  Germany,  a  Corneille,  Racine 
and  Hugo  in  France,  a  Camoens  in  Portugal,  a  Cervantes  in 
Spain;  for  every  nation  has  had  its  golden  age  when  the 
dramatist  flourished.  At  all  times  the  stage  has  appealed 
to  the  people  ;  they  have  seen  thereon,  as  in  a  mirror,  a  reflec- 
tion of  their  own  human  life,  its  faults  and  foibles,  its  glory 
and  shame;  they  have  seen  the  smiles  of  comedy  and  the 
blinding  tears  of  tragedy.  The  drama  shows  us  the  soul  in 
action,  and  its  greatest  works  reveal  the  individual  soul  in 
collision  with  a  higher  will,  a  stronger  force,  as  represented 
by  the  decrees  of  fate,  the  family  or  the  State.  There  is  no 
literary  work  more  complex,  instructive  or  fascinating  —  none 
which  repays  the  student  so  much  for  his  time  and  application. 
We  may  close  the  criticism  of  the  drama  with  two  observa- 
tions made  by  master  minds  —  the  life  of  humanity  is  a  grand 
drama  —  the  whole  world  is  a  stage,  and  we  are  the  players. 


CHAPTER  XLIX 
THE  EPIC 

Origin  of  the  Epic. —  At  the  root  of  the  epic  was  the  popular 
worship  of  heroes.  This  worship  filled  heaven  with  the  gods 
of  mythology;  and  around  their  earthly  career  legends  and 
myths  grew  up  and  flourished  in  the  traditions  of  the  people. 
In  these  legends  the  epic  writer  found  material  for  his  long 
narrative  poem.  The  mythology  furnishing  the  basis  for  epics, 
deals  with  the  forces  and  elements  of  nature  which  were 
deified,  as  well  as  with  the  human  hero.  In  this  connection 
Professor  Jebb  writes  of  Homer :  "  The  early  religion  of  the 
Greeks  was  chiefly  a  sense  of  divinity  in  the  forces  of  outward 
nature;  so  that  among  the  gods  of  Olympus  are  those  repre- 
senting the  elements,  the  seasons,  the  divisions  of  earth  and 
water,  etc. ;  these  gods  were  fully  as  heroic  in  character  as 
those  who  had  inherited  heaven  or  those  who,  as  human  heroes, 
earned  deification."  The  epic  treatment  of  this  material  cor- 
responds with  the  traditional  treatment  of  it;  hence,  it  is 
almost  wholly  fictitious.  But  certain  elements  of  truth  remain 
in  the  composition  of  the  epic.  For  example,  Jebb  finds  three 
elements  of  truth  in  Homer.  First,  his  epics  are  true  in  em- 
ploying historical  material  for  setting  and  outline;  they  are 
true  in  selecting  some  characters  or  heroes  who  actually  have 
a  place  in  human  history,  although  the  events  in  their  lives 
as  given  in  the  epics  are  for  the  most  part  fictitious.  Finally, 
they  are  true  in  giving  a  faithful  picture  of  the  social  manners 
and  institutions  which  existed  at  the  time.  These  elements  of 
truth  found  in  Homer,  extend  throughout  the  whole  realm  of 
epic  literature. 

466 


COMPARED  WITH  THE  LYRIC 

The  Epic  Compared  with  the  Lyric— The  epic  deals  with 
the  real  or  fictitious  events  of  history ;  hence,  it  is  objective  in 
character;  whereas,  the  lyric  deals  with  the  writer's  own 
thoughts  and  emotions.  In  other  words,  the  lyric  is  purely 
subjective.  It  is  self-expression  in  the  matter  of  love,  hatred, 
grief,  hope,  or  in  any  other  of  the  various  passions.  As  dis- 
tinguished from  the  lyric,  epic  poetry  was  recited,  not  set 
to  music;  the  author  was  kept  in  the  background;  the  events 
of  the  story,  not  the  personal  feelings  of  the  author,  held 
the  attention  of  reader  or  hearer.  As  a  natural  result  of  the 
material  treated,  the  lyric  is  a  brief  poem.  The  expression  of 
intense  emotion,  like  the  duration  of  any  passion,  is  incapable 
of  long  continuance.  For  example,  the  climax  of  grief,  joy, 
hatred,  or  any  passion  is  brief  in  nature;  and  must  be  so  in 
art;  and  the  lyric  which  is  its  form  of  expression  cannot  be 
drawn  out  to  any  length  without  violating  the  law  of  nature. 
This  is  true,  even  when  a  large  number  of  lyrics  cluster  around 
a  single  theme  as  in  the  In  Memoriam  of  Tennyson ;  for  each 
lyric  is  brief,  having  a  separate  topic.  Tennyson  defines  these 
lyrics  as  "  short  swallow-flights  of  song  that  dip  their  wings 
in  tears  and  skim  away."  The  epic,  on  the  contrary,  is  a  long 
narrative  poem,  dealing  with  the  story  of  some  hero,  and  in- 
volving a  large  number  of  events  and  episodes.  The  material 
is  such  that  the  epic  must  run  through  many  chapters  or 
cantos ;  it  often  reaches  the  proportions  of  a  good-sized  volume. 

Epic  and  Lyric  Combined. —  The  epic  often  contains  lyric 
elements,  because  it  frequently  gives  expression  to  intense  emo- 
tion. For  example,  the  hymns  of  the  angels  or  the  prayers 
of  our  first  parents  quoted  in  Milton ;  the  frequent  and  passion- 
ate invocation  of  the  gods  in  Virgil  and  Homer.  These  are 
purely  lyrical  in  character.  While  they  do  not  change  the 
form  and  matter  of  the  epic  line,  they  are  separated  by  quota- 


468  THE  EPIC 

tion  marks,  and  are  understood  by  the  author  and  reader  to 
be  distinct  from  the  epic  story. 

The  Epic  Compared  with  the  Drama. —  As  compared  with 
the  drama,  the  epic  is  narrated;  the  drama  is  acted.  The 
drama  is  concerned  primarily  with  character  creation.  The 
events  in  a  drama  are  stated  in  order  to  unfold  character; 
they  are  seen  in  the  light  of  character-development;  whereas, 
the  events  in  the  epic,  like  the  events  of  history,  are  made  inter- 
esting1 on  their  own  account. 

Leading  Characters  Compared. —  If  we  compare  leading 
characters  of  the  epic,  for  example,  Achilles  or  Ulysses,  with 
leading  characters  of  the  drama,  for  example,  Hamlet  or 
Othello,  the  difference  between  epic  and  dramatic  treatment 
appears  at  once.  The  main  point  of  difference  is  magnitude 
and  uncertainty  of  outline.  The  epic  hero  as  represented  in 
Achilles  or  Ulysses,  is  unreal,  a  human  shadow,  distorted  and 
magnified  beyond  the  range  of  probability ;  as  a  rule,  this  hero 
is  an  impossible  idealization  of  human  qualities  and  human 
deeds.  Thus,  epic  characters  are  aptly  described  as  sprites, 
goblins,  ghosts,  flitting  with  magnified  forms  in  the  twilight 
of  history.  Hence,  too,  the  frequent  introduction  of  the  super- 
natural in  order  to  sustain  epic  grandeur  and  magnificence. 
The  epic  writer  constantly  destroys  human  limitations  and 
his  imagination  takes  refuge  in  the  supernatural.  For  exam- 
ple, Homer  forgets  Achilles  and  the  plain  of  Troy,  and  spends 
much  of  his  time  and  talent  around  Olympus.  In  Paradise 
Lost,  Adam  is  made  a  mere  pigmy  among  supernatural  heroes. 
In  the  broad  light  of  day  the  traditional  epic  hero  is  an  absurd 
creation;  hence,  Milton  felt  that  he  was  born  an  age  too  late, 
because  he  could  not  clothe  Adam  with  that  unnatural,  super- 
human magnificence,  as  older  epic  writers  had  done  with 
primitive  heroes.  But  he  found  a  remedy  in  the  heroes  of  an- 


469 

ether  world  and  another  race.  Angels  take  the  place  of  pagan 
gods;  and  heaven  and  hell,  like  Olympus,  claim  the  splendid 
imagery  of  the  epic.  The  drama,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a 
mirror  of  nature ;  Hamlet  and  Othello  are  real  human  beings. 
The  characters  of  the  drama  are  all  possible  human  types;  they 
are  perfectly  natural  in  their  qualities  and  deeds;  the  success 
of  the  drama  depends  upon  faithfulness  to  reality;  whereas  in 
the  epic  there  is  a  constant  tending  toward  an  impossible  ideal- 
ism. Hence,  in  the  drama  we  have  character-creation  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word ;  while  the  creations  of  the  epic  are  ex- 
travagant and  imaginary. 

Dramatic  Use  of  Epic  Material. —  Drama  often  makes  use 
of  epic  material,  just  as  the  epic  often  embraces  lyric  material. 
But  the  long  narrative  undergoes  almost  a  complete  trans- 
formation. The  supernatural  machinery  is  either  cut  out  or 
relegated  to  the  back-ground ;  the  long  speeches  are  cut  down 
to  those  of  ordinary  conversation;  the  extravagant  imagery 
and  language  are  so  modified  as  to  suit  an  ordinary  human 
being;  the  dramatic  situations  are  multiplied;  so  that  while 
one  trait  of  character  was  displayed  in  the  epic,  half  a  dozen 
appear  in  the  clash  of  wills  and  motives  peculiar  to  the  drama. 
The  heroes  live  and  act  and  interpret  themselves  to  us  by 
all  the  complexity  of  movement  known  to  actual  living.  The 
Homeric  narrative  was  thus  treated  by  the  Greek  dramatists; 
the  epic  of  Faust  by  Goethe  is  a  striking  modern  example  of 
such  treatment.  Paradise  Lost,  on  the  contrary,  has  never 
been  dramatized  because  the  supernatural  machinery  could  not 
be  staged  or  eliminated  with  success.  It  is  made  a  vital  part 
of  the  story.  Adam's  life,  as  written  by  Milton,  presents  too 
small  a  number  of  dramatic  situations ;  the  whole  story  would 
have  to  be  re-written,  in  order  to  constitute  a  drama. 

Types  of  the  Epic. —  The  two  most  notable  and  most  typical 
forms  of  epic  poetry  are  the  primitive  epic  and  the  so-called 


470  THE  EPIC 

modern  epic.  The  former  is  a  growth  rather  than  a  crea- 
tion ;  at  least  the  people  who  handed  down  the  myth  or  tradi- 
tion are  responsible  for  its  enlargement,  quite  as  much  as  the 
poet  whose  name  it  bears.  The  poem  is  written  on  a  grand 
scale  and  relies  upon  the  supernatural  as  well  as  the  human 
element  in  the  story. 

The  modern  epic  is  likewise  on  a  grand  scale  and  uses  the 
supernatural.  But  there  is  this  main  point  of  difference.  The 
modern  epic  writer  is  self-conscious  and  introduces  the  personal 
element  frequently.  Milton  devotes  a  page  to  his  own  blind- 
ness, he  speaks  of  having  fallen  on  evil  days ;  of  having  started 
the  epic  late  in  life,  and  other  matters  quite  foreign  to  the  nar- 
rative. This  self-consciousness  is  stronger  still  in  Dante,  who 
uses  the  epic  in  order  to  place  many  of  his  personal  enemies  in 
hell.  This  self-consciousness  or  personal  equation  is  quite  un- 
known in  the  older  epics.  And  the  epic  writer,  like  the  his- 
torian or  the  dramatist,  ought  to  keep  himself  in  the  back- 
ground. 

Rank  of  the  Epic. —  The  epic  poem  is  universally  allowed  to 
be,  of  all  poetical  works,  the  most  dignified,  and  at  the  same 
time,  the  most  difficult  of  execution.  To  contrive  a  story 
which  shall  please  and  interest  all  readers,  by  being  at  once 
entertaining,  important  and  instructive;  to  fill  it  with  suitable 
incidents;  to  enliven  it  with  a  variety  of  characters,  and  of 
descriptions;  and  throughout  a  long  work,  to  maintain  that 
propriety  of  sentiment,  and  that  elevation  of  style,  which  the 
epic  character  requires,  is  unquestionably  a  very  high  effort  of 
poetical  genius.  Hence,  so  very  few  have  succeeded  in  the 
attempt,  that  strict  critics  will  hardly  allow  any  other  poems 
to  bear  the  name  of  epic,  except  the  Iliad  and  the  ^Eneid. 

Dispute  as  to  Definition.— There  is  no  subject,  it  must  be 
confessed,  on  which  critics  have  displayed  more  pedantry,  than 


DEFINITION 

on  this.  By  tedious  disquisitions,  founded  on  a  servile  sub- 
mission to  authority,  they  have  given  such  an  air  of  mystery 
to  a  plain  subject,  as  to  render  it  difficult  for  an  ordinary 
reader  to  conceive  what  an  epic  poem  is.  By  Bossu's  defini- 
tion, it  is  a  discourse  invented  by  art  purely  to  form  the  man- 
ners of  men  by  means  of  instruction  disguised  under  the  alle- 
gory of  some  important  action,  which  is  related  in  verse. 
This  definition  would  suit  several  of  vEsop's  Fables,  if  they 
were  somewhat  extended,  and  put  into  verse;  and  accord- 
ingly, to  illustrate  his  definition,  the  critic  draws  a  parallel,  in 
form,  between  the  construction  of  one  of  ^Esop's  Fables  and 
the  plan  of  Homer's  Iliad.  The  first  thing,  says  he,  which 
either  a  writer  of  fables,  or  of  heroic  poems  does,  is  to  choose 
some  maxim  or  point  of  morality,  to  inculcate  which,  is  to 
be  the  design  of  his  work.  Next,  he  invents  a  general  story, 
or  a  series  of  facts,  without  any  names,  such  as  he  judges  will 
be  most  proper  for  illustrating  his  intended  moral.  Lastly,  he 
particularizes  his  story;  that  is,  if  he  be  a  fabulist  he  intro- 
duces his  dog,  his  sheep  and  his  wolf;  or,  if  he  be  an  epic 
poet,  he  looks  into  ancient  history  for  some  proper  names 
of  heroes  to  give  to  his  actors ;  and  then  his  plan  is  completed. 

Correct  Definition. —  The  plain  account  of  the  nature  of  an 
epic  poem  is  the  recital  of  some  illustrious  enterprise  in  a 
poetical  form.  This  is  as  exact  a  definition  as  there  is 
any  occasion  for,  on  this  subject.  It  comprehends  several 
other  poems  besides  the  Iliad  of  Homer,  the  ^neid  of  Virgil 
and  the  Jerusalem  of  Tasso,  which  are,  perhaps,  the  three  most 
regular  and  complete  epic  works  that  ever  were  composed. 
3ut  to  exclude  all  poems  from  the  epic  class,  which  are  not 
formed  exactly  upon  the  same  model  as  these,  is  the  pedantry 
of  criticism.  We  can  give  exact  definitions  and  descriptions 
of  minerals,  plants,  and  animals ;  and  can  arrange  them  with 
precision,  under  the  different  classes  to  which  they  belong, 


472  THE  EPIC 

because  nature  affords  a  visible  unvarying  standard,  to  which 
we  refer  them.  But  with  regard  to  works  of  taste  and  im- 
agination, where  nature  has  fixed  no  standard,  but  leaves 
scope  for  beauties  of  many  different  kinds,  it  is  absurd  to  at- 
tempt defining,  and  limiting  them  with  the  same  precision. 
Criticism,  when  employed  in  such  attempts,  degenerates  into 
trifling  questions  about  words  and  names  only.  One,  therefore, 
can  have  no  scruple  to  class  such  poems,  as  Milton's  Paradise 
Lost,  Lucan's  Pharsalia,  Statins'  Thebiad,  Ossian's  Fingal 
and  Temora,  Carmen's  Lusiad,  Voltaire's  Henriade,  Cam- 
bray's  Telemachus,  Glover's  Leonidas,  Wilkie's  Epigoniad, 
under  the  same  species  of  composition  with  the  Iliad  and  the 
yEneid ;  though  some  of  them  approach  much  nearer  than 
others  to  the  perfection  of  these  celebrated  works.  They  are, 
undoubtedly,  all  epic ;  that  is,  poetical  recitals  of  great  adven- 
tures ;  which  is  all  that  is  meant  by  this  denomination  of  poetry. 

Moral  Value. —  Though  one  cannot  by  any  means  allow 
that  it  is  the  essence  of  an  epic  poem  to  be  wholly  an  allegory, 
or  a  fable  contrived  to  illustrate  some  moral  truth,  yet  it  is 
certain  that  no  poetry  is  of  a  more  moral  nature  than  this. 
Its  effect  in  promoting  virtue  is  not  to  be  measured  by  any 
one  maxim,  or  instruction  which  results  from  the  whole  his- 
tory, like  the  moral  of  one  of  ^Esop's  fables.  This  is  a  poor 
and  trivial  view  of  the  advantage  to  be  derived  from  perusing 
a  long  epic  work,  that  at  the  end  we  shall  be  able  to  gather 
from  it  some  common-place  morality.  Its  effect  arises  from 
the  impression  which  the  parts  of  the  poem  separately,  as  well 
as  the  whole  taken  together,  make  upon  the  mind  of  the  reader ; 
from  the  great  examples  which  it  sets  before  us,  and  the  high 
sentiments  with  which  it  warms  our  hearts.  The  end  which 
it  proposes  is  to  extend  our  ideas  of  human  perfection,  or, 
in  other  words,  to  excite  admiration.  Now  this  can  be  ac- 
complished only  by  proper  representation  of  heroic  deeds  and 


CHARACTERISTICS 

virtuous  characters.  For  high  virtue  is  the  object  which  all 
mankind  are  formed  to  admire;  and,  therefore,  epic  poems 
are,  and  must  be,  favorable  to  the  cause  of  virtue.  Valor, 
truth,  justice,  fidelity,  friendship,  piety,  magnanimity,  are  the 
objects  which,  in  the  course  of  such  compositions,  are  pre- 
sented to  our  minds,  under  the  most  splendid  and  honorable 
colors.  In  behalf  of  virtuous  personages,  our  affections  are 
engaged;  in  their  designs,  and  their  distresses,  we  are  inter- 
ested; the  generous  and  public  affections  are  awakened;  the 
mind  is  purified  from  sensual  and  mean  pursuits,  and  accus- 
tomed to  take  part  in  great  heroic  enterprises.  It  is  indeed 
no  small  testimony  in  honor  of  virtue,  that  several  of  the  most 
refined  and  elegant  entertainments  of  mankind,  such  as  that 
species  of  poetical  composition  which  we  now  consider,  must 
be  grounded  on  moral  sentiments  and  impressions.  This  is 
a  testimony  of  such  weight  that,  were  it  in  the  power  of  skep- 
tical philosophers  to  weaken  the  force  of  those  reasonings 
which  establish  the  essential  distinctions  between  vice  and 
virtue,  the  writings  of  epic  poets  alone  were  sufficient  to  refute 
their  false  philosophy ;  showing  by  that  appeal  which  they  con- 
stantly make  to  the  feelings  of  mankind  in  favor  of  virtue,  that 
the  foundations  of  it  are  laid  deep  and  strong  in  human  nature. 

Characteristics  of  the  Epic. —  The  general  strain  and  spirit 
of  the  epic  composition  sufficiently  mark  its  distinction  from 
the  other  kinds  of  poetry.  In  pastoral  writing  the  reigning 
idea  is  innocence  and  tranquillity.  Compassion  is  the  great  ob- 
ject of  tragedy;  ridicule,  the  province  of  comedy.  The  pre- 
dominant character  of  the  epic  is.  admiration  excited  by  heroic 
actions.  It  is  sufficiently  distinguished  from  history,  both 
by  its  political  form  and  the  liberty  of  fiction  which  it  assumes. 
It  is  a  more  calm  composition  than  tragedy.  It  admits,  nay. 
requires,  the  pathetic  and  the  violent,  on  particular  occasions; 
but  the  pathetic  is  not  expected  to  be  its  general  character. 


474  '  THE  EPIC 

It  requires,  more  than  other  species  of  poetry,  a  grave,  equal, 
and  supported  dignity.  It  takes  in  a  greater  compass  of  time 
and  action  than  dramatic  writing  admits,  and  thereby  allows 
full  display  of  characters.  Dramatic  writings  display  charac- 
ters chiefly  by  means  of  sentiments  and  passions ;  epic  poetry, 
chiefly  by  means  of  actions.  The  emotions,  therefore,  which  it 
raises  are  not  so  violent,  but  they  are  more  prolonged.  These 
are  the  general  characteristics  of  this  species  of  composition. 
But,  in  order  to  give  a  more  particular  and  critical  view  of  it, 
let  us  consider  the  epic  poem  under  three  heads ;  first,  with 
respect  to  the  subject  or  action ;  secondly,  with  respect  to  the 
actors  or  characters;  and  lastly,  with  respect  to  the  narration 
of  the  poet. 

The  Action  of  the  Epic.—  The  action,  or  subject  of  the  epic 
poem,  must  have  three  properties;  it  must  be  one;  it  must  be 
great;  it  must  be  interesting:  First,  it  must  be  one  action 
or  enterprise  which  the  poet  chooses  for  his  subject.  I  have 
frequently  had  occasion  to  remark  the  importance  of  unity 
in  many  kinds  of  composition  in  order  to  make  a  full  and 
strong  impression  upon  the  mind.  With  the  highest  reason, 
Aristotle  insists  upon  this,  as  essential  to  epic  poetry;  and  it 
is,  indeed,  the  most  material  of  all  his  rules  respecting  it.  For 
it  is  certain  that,  in  the  recital  of  heroic  adventures,  several 
scattered  and  independent  facts  can  never  affect  a  reader  so 
deeply,  nor  engage  his  attention  so  strongly,  as  a  tale  that  is 
one  and  connected,  where  the  several  incidents  hang  upon  one 
another,  and  are  all  made  to  conspire  for  the  accomplishment 
of  one  end.  In  a  regular  epic,  the  more  this  unity  is  rendered 
sensible  to  the  imagination,  the  better  will  be  the  effect;  and, 
for  this  reason,  as  Aristotle  has  observed,  it  is  not  sufficient  for 
the  poet  to  confine  himself  to  the  actions  of  one  man,  or  to 
those  things  which  happened  during  a  certain  period  of  time ; 
but  the  unity  must  lie  in  the  subject  itself;  and  arise  from  all 


THE  ACTION 

the  parts  combining  into  one  whole.  In  all  the  great  epic 
poems,  unity  of  action  is  sufficiently  apparent.  Virgil,  for  in- 
stance, has  chosen  for  his  subject,  the  establishment  of  ^Eneas 
in  Italy.  From  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  poem,  this 
object  is  ever  in  our  view,  and  links  all  the  parts  of  it  together 
with  full  connection.  The  unity  of  the  Odyssey  is  of  the  same 
nature;  the  return  and  re-establishment  of  Ulysses  in  his  own 
country.  The  subject  of  Tasso,  is  the  recovery  of  Jerusalem 
from  the  infidels;  that  of  Milton,  the  expulsion  of  our  first 
parents  from  Paradise;  and  both  of  them  are  unexceptionable 
in  the  unity  of  the  story.  The  professed  subject  of  the  Iliad  is 
the  anger  of  Achilles,  with  the  consequences  which  it  pro- 
duced. The  Greeks  carry  on  many  unsuccessful  engagements 
against  the  Trojans,  as  long  as  they  are  deprived  of  the  as- 
sistance of  Achilles.  Upon  his  being  appeased  and  reconciled 
to  Agamemnon,  victory  follows,  and  the  poem  closes.  It  must 
be  owned,  however,  that  the  unity,  or  connecting  principle,  is 
not  quite  so  sensible  to  the  imagination  here,  as  in  the  ^Eneid. 
For,  throughout  many  books  of  the  Iliad,  Achilles  is  out  of 
sight;  he  is  lost  in  inaction,  and  the  fancy  terminates  on  no 
other  object  than  the  success  of  the  two  armies  which  we  see 
contending  in  war. 

Interpretation  of  Epic  Action. —  The  unity  of  the  epic  action 
is  not  to  be  strictly  interpreted,  as  if  it  excluded  all  episodes, 
or  subordinate  actions.  It  is  necessary  to  observe  here,  that 
the  term  episode  is  employed  by  Aristotle,  in  a  different  sense 
from  what  we  now  give  to  it.  It  was  a  term  originally  applied 
to  dramatic  poetry,  and  hence,  transferred  to  epic;  and  by 
episodes  in  an  epic  poem,  it  should  seem  that  Aristotle  under- 
stood the  extension  of  the  general  fable,  or  plan  of  the  poem, 
into  all  its  circumstances.  What  his  meaning  was,  is  indeed 
not  very  clear;  and  this  obscurity  has  occasioned  much  alter- 
cation among  critical  writers.  Bossu,  in  particular,  is  so  per- 


476  THE  EPIC 

plexed  upon  this  subject,  as  to  be  almost  unintelligible.  But 
dismissing  so  fruitless  a  controversy,  what  we  now  understand 
by  episodes,  are  certain  actions  or  incidents,  introduced  into 
the  narration,  connected  with  the  principal  action,  yet  not  so 
essential  to  it,  as  to  destroy,  if  they  had  been  omitted,  the  main 
subject  of  the  poem.  Of  this  nature  are  the  interview  of 
Hector  with  Andromache,  in  the  Iliad ;  the  story  of  Cacus,  and 
that  of  Nisus  and  Euryalus,  in  the  ^neid;  the  adventures  of 
Tancred  with  Erminia  and  Clorinda,  in  the  Jerusalem ;  and  the 
prospect  of  his  descendants  exhibited  to  Adam  in  the  last 
books  of  Paradise  Lost. 

Episodes. —  Such  episodes  as  these  are  not  only  permitted 
to  an  epic  poet,  but  provided  they  are  properly  executed,  are 
great  ornaments  to  his  work.  The  rules  regarding  them  are 
the  following :  First,  they  must  be  naturally  introduced  ;  they 
must  have  a  sufficient  connection  with  the  poem;  they  must 
seem  inferior  parts  that  belong  to  it;  not  mere  appendages 
stuck  to  it.  The  episode  of  Olinda  and  Sophronia  in  the  sec- 
ond book  of  Tasso's  Jerusalem  is  faulty,  by  transgressing  this 
rule.  It  is  too  detached  from  the  rest  of  the  work,  and,  being 
introduced  so  near  the  opening  of  the  poem,  misleads  the 
reader  to  an  expectation  that  it  is  to  be  of  some  future  conse- 
quence, whereas  it  proves  to  be  connected  with  nothing  that 
follows.  In  proportion  as  any  episode  is  slightly  related  to 
the  main  subject,  it  should  always  be  the  shorter.  The  pas- 
sion of  Dido  in  the  y£neid,  and  the  snares  of  Armida  in  the 
Jerusalem,  which  are  expanded  so  fully  in  these  poems,  cannot 
with  propriety  be  called  episodes.  They  are  constituent  parts 
of  the  work,  and  form  a  considerable  share  of  the  intrigue 
^f  the  poem.  In  the  next  place,  episodes  ought  to  present  to 
us  objects  of  a  different  kind  from  those  which  go  before,  and 
those  which  follow  in  the  course  of  the  poem.  Because  it  is 
principally  for  the  sake  of  variety  that  episodes  are  introduced 


EPISODES  477 

into  an  epic  composition.  In  so  long  a  work  they  tend  to 
diversify  the  subject  and  to  relieve  the  reader  by  shifting  the 
scene.  In  the  midst  of  combats,  therefore,  an  episode  of  the 
martial  kind  would  be  out  of  place;  whereas  Hector's  visit  to 
Andromache  in  the  Iliad,  and  Erminia's  adventure  with  the 
shepherd  in  the  seventh  book  of  the  Jerusalem,  afford  us  a 
well-judged  and  pleasing  retreat  from  camps  and  battles. 
Lastly,  as  an  episode  is  a  professed  embellishment,  it  ought  to 
be  particularly  elegant  and  well  finished ;  and  accordingly,  it 
is,  for  the  most  part,  in  pieces  of  this  kind  that  poets  put 
forth  their  strength.  The  episodes  of  Teribazus  and  Ariana, 
in  Leonidas,  and  of  the  death  of  Hercules,  in  the  Epigoniad, 
are  the  two  greatest  beauties  in  these  poems. 

The  Unity  of  the  Epic  Action.—  This  necessarily  supposes 
that  the  action  be  entire  and  complete :  that  is,  as  Aristotle  well 
expresses  it,  that  it  have  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and  an  end. 
Either  by  relating  the  whole,  in  his  own  person,  or  by  intro- 
ducing some  of  his  actors  to  relate  what  had  passed  before  the 
opening  of  the  poem,  the  author  must  always  contrive  to  give 
us  full  information  of  everything  that  belongs  to  his  subject ; 
he  must  not  leave  our  curiosity,  in  any  article,  ungratified ; 
he  must  bring  us  precisely  to  the  accomplishment  of  his  plan, 
and  then  conclude.  The  second  property  of  the  epic  action 
is  that  it  be  great;  that  it  have  sufficient  splendor  and  impor- 
tance both  to  fix  our  attention  and  to  justify  the  magnificent 
apparatus  which  the  poet  bestows  upon  it.  This  is  so  evi- 
dently requisite  as  not  to  require  illustration ;  and,  indeed, 
hardly  any  who  have  attempted  epic  poetry,  have  failed  in 
choosing  some  subject  sufficiently  important,  either  by  the 
nature  of  the  action  or  by  the  fame  of  the  personages  concerned 
in  it. 

Advantage  of  Antiquity. —  It  contributes  to  the  grandeur 
of  the  epic  subject,  that  it  be  not  of  a  modern  date,  nor  fall 


47g  ^  THE  EPIC 

within  any  period  of  history  with  which  we  are  intimately 
acquainted.  Both  Lucan  and  Voltaire  have,  in  the  choice  of 
their  subjects,  transgressed  this  rule,  and  they  have,  upon  that 
account,  succeeded  worse.  Antiquity  is  favorable  to  those 
high  and  august  ideas  which  epic  poetry  is  designed  to  raise. 
It  tends  to  aggrandize,  in  our  imagination,  both  persons  and 
events :  and  what  is  still  more  material,  it  allows  the  poet  the 
liberty  of  adorning  his  subject- by  means  of  fiction.  Whereas, 
as  soon  as  he  comes  within  the  verge  of  real  and  authenticated 
history,  this  liberty  is  abridged.  He  must  either  confine  him- 
self wholly,  as  Lucan  has  done,  to  strict  historical  truth,  at 
the  expense  of  rendering  his  story  jejune ;  or  if  he  goes  beyond 
it,  like  Voltaire  in  his  Henriade,  this  disadvantage  follows, 
that,  in  well-known  events,  the  true  and  the  fictitious  parts  of 
the  plan  do  not  naturally  mingle  and  incorporate  with  each 
other.  These  observations  cannot  be  applied  to  dramatic  writ- 
ing, where  the  personages  are  exhibited  to  us,  not  so  much 
that  we  may  admire,  as  that  we  may  love  or  pity  them.  Such 
passions  are  much  more  consistent  with  the  familiar  historical 
knowledge  of  the  persons  who  are  to  be  the  objects  of  them ; 
and  even  require  them  to  be  displayed  in  the  light  and  with 
the  failings  of  ordinary  men.  Modern  and  well-known  his- 
tory, therefore,  may  furnish  very  proper  materials  for  tragedy. 
But  for  epic  poetry,  where  heroism  is  the  ground-work  and 
where  the  object  in  view  is  to  excite  admiration,  ancient  or 
traditionary  history  is  assuredly  the  safest  region.  There  the 
author  may  lay  hold  on  names,  and  characters,  and  events  not 
wholly  unknown,  on  which  to  build  his  story,  while,  at  the 
same  time,  by  reason  of  the  distance  of  the  period,  or  of  the 
remoteness  of  the  scene,  sufficient  scope  is  left  him  for  fiction 
and  invention. 

The  Third  Property. —  The  third  property  required  in  the 
epic  poem  is,  that  it  be  interesting.     It  is  not  sufficient  for 


CHARACTERS  479 

this  purpose  that  it  be  great.  For  deeds  of  mere  valor,  how 
heroic  soever,  may  prove  cold  and  tiresome.  Much  will  de- 
pend on  the  happy  choice  of  some  subject,  which  shall  by  its 
nature,  interest  the  public;  as  when  the  poet  selects  for  his 
hero  one  who  is  the  founder,  or  the  deliverer,  or  the  favorite, 
of  his  nation;  or  when  he  writes  of  achievements  that  have 
been  highly  celebrated,  or  have  been  connected  with  important 
consequences  to  any  public  cause.  Most  of  the  great  epic 
poems  are  abundantly  fortunate  in  this  respect,  and  must  have 
been  very  interesting  to  those  ages  and  countries  in  which 
they  were  composed. 

Management  of  Plan. — But  the  chief  circumstance  which 
renders  an  epic  poem  interesting,  and  which  tends  to  interest 
not  one  age  or  country  alone,  but  all  readers,  is  the  skilful  con- 
duct of  the  author  in  the  management  of  his  subject.  He  must 
so  contrive  his  plan  as  that  it  shall  comprehend  many  affecting 
incidents.  He  must  not  dazzle  us  perpetually  with  valiant 
achievements,  for  all  readers  tire  of  constant  fighting  and  bat- 
tles; but  he  must  study  to  touch  our  hearts.  He  may  some- 
times be  awful  and  august,  he  must  often  be  tender  and 
pathetic,  he  must  give  us  gentle  and  pleasing  scenes  of  love, 
friendship,  and  affection.  The  more  an  epic  poem  abounds 
with  situations  which  awaken  the  feelings  of  humanity,  the 
more  interesting  it  is ;  and  these  form  always  the  favorite  pass- 
ages of  the  work.  No  poets  are  so  happy  in  this  respect  as 
Virgil  and  Tasso. 

Characters  of  Heroes. —  Much,  too,  depends  upon  the  char- 
acters of  the  heroes  for  rendering  the  poem  interesting,  that 
they  be  such  as  shall  strongly  attach  the  readers,  and  make 
them  take  part  in  the  dangers  which  the  heroes  encounter. 
These  dangers,  or  obstacles,  form  what  is  called  the  nodus 
or  the  intrigue  of  the  epic  poem,  in  the  judicious  conduct  of 


480  THE  EPIC 

which,  consists  much  of  the  poet's  art.  He  must  rouse  our 
attention,  by  a  prospect  of  the  difficulties  which  seem  to  threat- 
en disappointment  to  the  enterprise  of  his  favorite  personages ; 
he  must  make  these  difficulties  grow  and  thicken  upon  us  by 
degrees;  till,  after  having  kept  us  for  some  time  in  a  state  of 
agitation  and  suspense,  he  paves  the  way,  by  a  proper  prepara- 
tion of  incidents,  for  the  winding  up  of  the  plot  in  a  natural 
and  probable  manner.  It  is  plain  that  every  tale  which  is 
designed  to  engage  attention,  must  be  conducted  on  a  plan  of 
this  sort. 

The  Close. —  A  question  has  been  moved,  whether  the  nature 
of  the  epic  poem  does  require  that  it  should  always  end  suc- 
cessfully? Most  critics  are  inclined  to  think  that  a  successful 
issue  is  the  most  proper;  and  they  appear  to  have  reason  on 
their  side.  An  unhappy  conclusion  depresses  the  mind,  and 
is  opposite  to  the  elevating  emotions  which  belong  to  this 
species  of  poetry.  Terror  and  compassion  are  the  proper  sub- 
jects of  tragedy ;  but  as  the  epic  poem  is  of  larger  compass 
and  extent,  it  were  too  much,  if  after  the  difficulties  and  troub- 
les which  commonly  abound  in  the  progress  of  the  poem, 
the  author  should  bring  them  all  at  last  to  an  unfortunate 
issue.  Accordingly,  the  general  practice  of  the  epic  poet  is 
on  the  side  of  a  prosperous  conclusion ;  not,  however,  without 
some  exceptions.  For  two  authors  of  great  name,  Lucan  and 
Milton,  have  held  a  contrary  course ;  the  one  concluding  with 
the  subversion  of  the  Roman  liberty;  the  other,  with  the  ex- 
pulsion of  man  from  Paradise. 

Time. —  With  regard  to  the  time  or  duration  of  the  epic 
action,  no  precise  boundaries  can  be  ascertained.  A  consid- 
erable extent  is  always  allowed  to  it,  as  it  does  not  necessarily 
depend  on  those  violent  passions  which  can  be  supposed  to 
have  only  a  short  continuance.  The  Iliad,  which  is  formed 


CHARACTERS  48l 

upon  the  anger  of  Achilles,  has,  with  propriety,  the  shortest 
duration  of  any  of  the  great  epic  poems.  According  to  Bossu, 
the  action  lasts  no  longer  than  forty-seven  days.  The  action 
of  the  Odyssey,  computed  from  the  taking  of  Troy  to  the  peace 
of  Ithaca,  extends  to  eight  years  and  a  half;  and  the  action 
of  the  ^Eneid,  computed  in  the  same  way  from  the  taking  of 
Troy  to  the  death  of  Turnus,  includes  about  six  years.  But 
if  we  measure  the  period  only  of  the  poet's  own  narration,  or 
compute  from  the  time  in  which  the  herb  makes  his  first  ap- 
pearance till  the  conclusion,  the  duration  of  both  these  last 
poems  is  brought  within  a  much  smaller  compass.  The 
Odyssey,  beginning  with  Ulysses  in  the  island  of  Calypso, 
comprehends  fifty-eight  days  only;  and  the  ^neid  beginning 
with  the  storm  which  throws  ^Eneas  upon  the  cost  of  Africa, 
is  reckoned  to  include,  at  the  most,  a  year  and  some  months. 

Personages. —  As  it  is  the  business  of  an  epic  poet  to  copy 
after  nature  and  to  form  a  probably  interesting  tale,  he  must 
study  to  give  all  his  personages  proper  and  well-supported 
characters,  such  as  display  the  features  of  human  nature.  This 
is  what  Aristotle  calls  giving  manners  to  the  poem.  It  is 
by  no  means  necessary  that  all  his  actors  be  morally  good ; 
imperfect,  nay,  vicious  characters  may  find  a  proper  place; 
though  the  nature  of  epic  poetry  seems  to  require  that  the  prin- 
cipal figures  exhibited  should  be  such  as  tend  to  arouse  admira- 
tion and  love,  rather  than  hatred  or  contempt.  But  whatever 
the  character  be  which  a  poet  gives  to  any  of  his  actors,  he 
must  take  care  to  preserve  it  uniform  and  consistent  with  it- 
self. Everything  which  that  person  says  or  does  must  be 
suited  to  it,  and  must  serve  to  distinguish  him  from  any  other. 
Poetic  characters  may  be  divided  into  two  kinds,  general  and 
particular.  General  characters  are  wise,  brave,  virtuous,  with- 
out any  further  distinction.  Particular  characters  express  the 
species  of  bravery,  of  wisdom,  of  virtue,  for  which  any  one  is 


482  THE  EPIC 

eminent.  They  exhibit  the  peculiar  features  which  distinguish 
one  individual  from  another,  which  mark  the  difference  of 
the  same  moral  quality  in  different  men,  according  as  it  is 
combined  with  other  dispositions  in  their  temper.  In  drawing 
such  particular  characters,  genius  is  chiefly  exerted.  How  far 
each  of  the  three  great  epic  poets  have  distinguished  themselves 
in  this  part  of  composition,  shall  afterwards  be  shown  in  re- 
marking upon  their  works.  It  is  sufficient  now  to  mention, 
that  it  is  in  this  part  that  Homer  has  principally  excelled ; 
Tasso  has  come  the  nearest  to  Homer ;  and  Virgil  has  been  the 
most  deficient.  It  has  been  the  practice  of  all  epic  poets  to 
select  some  one  personage  whom  they  distinguish  above  all 
the  rest,  and  make  the  hero  of  the  tale.  This  is  considered 
essential  to  epic  composition,  and  is  attended  with  several  ad- 
vantages. It  renders  the  unity  of  the  subject  more  sensible, 
when  there  is  one  principal  figure,  to  which,  as  to  a  center, 
all  the  rest  refer.  It  tends  to  interest  us  more  in  the  enterprise 
which  is  carried  on,  and  it  gives  the  poet  an  opportunity  of 
exerting  his  talents  for  adorning  and  displaying  one  charac- 
ter with  peculiar  splendor.  It  has  been  asked,  Who,  then, 
is  the  hero  of  Paradise  Lost?  The  devil,  it  has  been  answered 
by  some  critics ;  and,  in  consequence  of  this  idea,  much  ridicule 
and  censure  have  been  thrown  upon  Milton.  But  they  have 
mistaken  that  author's  intention  by  proceeding  upon  a  sup- 
position that  in  the  conclusion  of  his  poem  the  hero  must  needs 
be  triumphant.  Whereas,  Milton  followed  a  different  plan 
and  has  given  a  tragic  conclusion  to  a  poem  otherwise  epic 
in  form.  For  Adam  is  undoubtedly  his  hero ;  that  is,  the  cap- 
ital and  most  interesting  figure  in  his  poem. 

Supernatural  Personages.—  Besides  human  actors,  there  are 
personages  of  another  kind  that  usually  occupy  no  small  place 
in  epic  poetry,  that  is,  the  gods,  or  supernatural  beings.  This 
brings  us  to  the  consideration  of  what  is  called  the  machinery 


CHARACTERS 

of  the  epic  poem ;  the  nicest  and  most  difficult  part  of  the  sub- 
ject. Critics  appear  to  have  gone  to  the  extreme  on  both  sides. 
Almost  all  the  French  critics  decide  in  favor  of  the  machinery 
as  essential  to  the  constitution  of  an  epic  poem.  They  quote 
that  sentence  of  Petronius  Arbiter,  as  if  it  were  an  oracle, 
"per  ambages,  Deorumque  ministeria,  procipitandus  est  liber 
spiritus"  and  hold  that,  though  a  poem  had  every  other  requis- 
ite thaL  could  be  demanded,  yet  it  could  not  be  ranked  in  the 
epic  class,  unless  the  main  action  was  carried  on  by  the  inter- 
vention of  the  gods.  This  decision  seems  to  be  founded  on 
no  principle  or  reason  whatever,  unless  a  superstitious  rever- 
ence for  the  practice  of  Homer  and  Virgil.  These  poets  very 
properly  embellished  their  story  by  the  traditional  tales  and 
popular  legends  of  their  own  country;  according  to  which  all 
the  great  transactions  of  the  heroic  times  were  intermixed 
with  the  fables  of  their  deities.  But  does  it  thence  follow  that 
in  other  countries  and  in  other  ages,  where  there  is  not  the  like 
advantage  of  current  superstition  and  popular  credulity,  epic 
poetry  must  be  wholly  confined  to  antiquated  fictions  and  fairy 
tales?  Lucan  has  composed  a  very  spirited  poem,  certainly 
of  the  epic  kind,  where  neither  gods  nor  supernatural  beings 
are  at  all  employed.  The  author  of  Leonidas  has  made  an 
attempt  of  the  same  kind,  not  without  success;  and  beyond 
doubt,  wherever  a  poet  gives  us  a  regular  heroic  story,  well 
connected  in  its  parts,  adorned  with  characters,  and  supported 
with  proper  dignity  and  elevation,  though  his  agents  be,  every 
one  of  them,  human,  he  has  fulfilled  the  chief  requisites  of  this 
sort  of  composition  and  has  a  just  title  to  be  classed  with  epic 
writers.  But  though  one  cannot  admit  that  machinery  is  es- 
sential or  necessary  to  the  epic  plan,  neither  can  one  agree  with 
some  late  critics  of  considerable  name,  who  are  for  excluding 
it  totally,  as  inconsistent  with  that  probability  and  impression 
of  reality  which  they  think  should  reign  in  this  kind  of  writ- 
ing. Mankind  do  not  consider  poetical  writings  with  so  phil- 


484  THE  EPIC 

osophical  an  eye.  They  seek  entertainment  from  them ;  and 
for  the  bulk  of  readers,  indeed  for  almost  all  men,  the  marve- 
lous has  a  great  charm.  It  gratifies  and  fills  the  imagination ; 
and  gives  room  for  many  a  striking  and  sublime  description. 
In  epic  poetry  in  particular,  where  admiration  and  lofty  ideas 
are  supposed  to  reign,  the  marvelous  and  supernatural  find, 
if  any  where,  their  proper  place.  They  both  enable  the  poet 
to  aggrandize  his  subject  by  means  of  those  august  and  solemn 
objects  which  religion  introduces  into  it;  and  they  allow  him 
to  enlarge  and  diversify  his  plan,  by  comprehending  with  it 
heaven,  and  earth,  and  hell,  men,  and  invisible  beings,  and  the 
whole  circle  of  the  universe.  At  the  same  time,  in  the  use  of 
this  supernatural  machinery,  it  becomes  a  poet  to  be  temperate 
and  prudent.  He  is  not  at  liberty  to  invent  what  system  of 
the  marvelous  he  pleases.  It  must  always  have  some  founda- 
tion in  popular  belief.  He  must  avail  himself  in  a  decent 
manner  either  of  the  religious  faith  or  the  superstitious  credul- 
ity of  the  country  wherein  he  lives  or  of  which  he  writes,  so 
as  to  give  an  air  of  probability  to  events  which  are  most  con- 
trary to  the  common  course  of  nature.  Whatever  machinery 
he  employs,  he  must  take  care  not  to  overload  us  with  it;  not 
to  withdraw  human  actions  and  manners  too  much  from  view, 
not  to  obscure  them  under  a  cloud  of  incredible  fictions.  He 
must  always  remember,  that  his  chief  business  is  to  relate  to 
men  the  actions  and  the  exploits  of  men;  that  it  is  by  these 
principally  he  is  to  interest  us  and  to  touch  our  hearts ;  and 
that  if  probability  be  altogether  banished  from  his  work,  it  can 
never  make  a  deep  or  a  lasting  impression.  Indeed,  there 
would  seem  nothing  more  difficult  in  epic  poetry  than  to  adjust 
properly  the  mixture  of  the  marvelous  with  the  probable,  so 
as  to  gratify  and  amuse  us  with  the  one  without  sacrificing 
the  other.  It  seems  needless  to  observe  that  these  observations 
affect  not  the  conduct  of  Milton's  work :  whose  plan  being 
altogether  theological,  his  supernatural  beings  form  not  the 


NARRATION'  ^ 

machinery  but  are  the  principal  actors  in  the  poem.  With 
regard  to  allegorical  personages,  fame,  discord,  love,  and  the 
like,  it  may  be  safely  pronounced  that  they  form  the  worst 
machinery  of  any.  In  description  they  are  sometimes  allow- 
able, and  may  serve  for  embellishment ;  but  they  should  never 
be  permitted  to  bear  any  share  in  the  action  of  the  poem.  For 
being  plain  and  admitted  fictions,  mere  names  of  general  ideas 
to  which  even  fancy  cannot  attribute  any  existence  as  persons, 
if  they  be  introduced  as  mingling  with  human  actors,  an  in- 
tolerable confusion  of  shadows  and  realities  arises  and  all 
consistency  of  action  is  utterly  destroyed. 

Narration. —  In  the  narration,  which  is  the  last  head  that  re- 
mains to  be  considered,  it  is  not  material  whether  the  poet 
recounts  the  whole  story  in  his  own  character,  or  introduces 
some  personages  to  relate  any  part  of  the  action  that  had 
passed  before  the  poem  opens.  Homer  follows  the  one  meth- 
od in  his  Iliad,  and  the  other  in  his  Odyssey.  Virgil  has,  in 
this  respect,  imitated  the  conduct  of  the  Odyssey ;  Tasso,  that 
of  the  Iliad.  The  chief  advantage  which  arises  from  any  of 
the  actors  being  employed  to  relate  part  of  the  story  is  that  it 
allows  the  poet,  if  he  choose,  to  open  with  some  interesting 
situation  of  affairs,  informing  us  afterward  of  what  had  passed 
before  that  period ;  and  gives  him  the  greater  liberty  of  spread- 
ing out  such  parts  of  the  subject  as  he  is  inclined  to  dwell  upon 
in  person,  and  of  comprehending  the  rest  with  a  short  recital. 
Where  the  subject  is  of  great  extent,  and  comprehends  the 
transactions  of  several  years,  as  in  the  Odyssey  and  the  yEneid, 
this  method  .  therefore  seems  preferable.  When  the  subject 
is  of  smaller  compass,  and  of  shorter  duration,  as  in  the  Iliad. 
and  the  Jerusalem,  the  poet  may  without  disadvantage  relate 
the  whole  in  his  own  person,  as  is  done  in  both  these  poems. 
In  the  presentation  of  the  subject,  the  invocation  of  the  muse, 
and  other  ceremonies  of  the  introduction,  poets  may  vary  at 


486  THE  EPIC 

their  pleasure.  It  is  perfectly  trifling  to  make  these  little 
formalities  the  object  of  precise  rule,  any  farther  than  that 
the  subject  of  the  work  should  always  be  clearly  proposed, 
and  without  affected  or  unsuitable  pomp.  For,  according  to 
Horace's  noted  rule,  no  introduction  should  ever  set  out  too 
high,  or  promise  too  much,  lest  the  author  should  not  fulfil 
the  expectations  he  has  raised.  What  is  of  most  importance 
in  the  tenor  of  the  narration  is  that  it  be  perspicuous,  animated, 
and  enriched  with  all  the  beauties  of  poetry.  No  sort  of  com- 
position requires  more  strength,  dignity,  and  fire,  than  the  epic 
poem.  It  is  the  region  within  which  we  look  for  everything 
that  is  sublime  in  description,  tender  in  sentiment,  and  bold  and 
lively  in  expression ;  and,  therefore,  though  an  author's  plan  be 
faultless,  and  his  story  never  so  well  conducted,  yet  if  he  be 
feeble,  or  flat  in  style,  destitute  of  affecting  scenes,  and  de- 
ficient in  poetic  coloring,  he  can  have  no  success.  The  orna- 
ments which  epic  poetry  admits,  must  all  be  of  the  grave  and 
chaste  kind.  Nothing  that  is  loose,  ludicrous,  or  affected,  finds 
any  place.  All  objects  which  it  presents,  ought  to  be  either 
great,  or  tender,  or  pleasing.  Descriptions  of  disgusting  or 
shocking  objects,  should  as  much  as  possible  be  avoided ;  and 
therefore  the  fable  of  the  Harpies  in  the  third  book  of  the 
^Eneid,  and  the  allegory  of  Sin  and  Death  in  the  second  book 
of  Paradise  Lost,  had  been  better  omitted. 


CHAPTER  L 
THE  EPIC  (CONTINUED) 
REPRESENTATIVE  AUTHORS 

Homer. —  He  is  the  poet  who,  according  to  very  ancient 
tradition,  is  credited  with  the  authorship  of  the  Iliad  and  the 
Odyssey,  besides  a  number  of  hymns  written  in  honor  of  the 
gods.  Nothing  is  known  of  his  life  or  his  personality ;  indeed, 
modern  destructive  criticism  has  led  us  to  doubt  whether  such 
a  person  as  Homer  ever  existed  at  all.  Seven  Grecian  cities 
claim  to  be  his  birthplace.  According  to  Professor  Mahaffy, 
the  home  of  the  original  Homer  seems  to  have  been  about 
Smyrna ;  and  although  his  date  is  quite  uncertain,  it  need  not 
be  placed  before  800  B.  C,  and  not  after  700  B.  C. 

Criticism  by  William  E.  Gladstone. — "  The  poems  of  Homer 
do  not  constitute  merely  a  great  item  of  the  splendid  literature 
of  Greece ;  but  they  have  a  separate  position,-  to  which  none  other 
can  approach.  They,  and  the  manners  they  describe,  constitute 
a  world  of  their  own ;  and  are  served  by  a  sea  of  time,  whose 
breadth  has  not  been  certainly  measured,  from  the  firmly  set 
continent  of  recorded  tradition  and  continuous  fact.  In  this  sea, 
they  lie  as  a  great  island.  And  in  this  island  we  find  not  merely 
details  of  events,  but  a  scheme  of  human  life  and  character,  com- 
plete in  all  its  parts.  We  are  introduced  to  man  in  every  relation 
of  which  he  is  capable ;  in  every  one  of  his  arts,  devices,  institu- 
tions; in  the  entire  circle  of  his  experience.  There  is  no  other 
author  whose  case  is  analogous  to  this,  or  of  whom  it  can  be 
said  that  the  study  of  him  is  not  a  mere  matter  of  literary  criti- 
cism, but  is  a  full  study  of  life  in  every  one  of  its  departments." 

Homer  His  Own  Witness.—"  When  we  use  the  word  Homer, 
we  do  not  mean  a  person  historically  known  to  us,  like  Pope  or 

487 


488  THE  EPIC 

Milton.  We  mean  in  the  main  the  author,  whoever,  or  whatever 
he  was,  of  the  wonderful  poems  called  respectively,  not  by  the 
author,  but  by  the  world,  the  Iliad,  and  the  Odyssey.  His  name 
is  conventional,  and  its  sense  in  etymology  is  not  very  different 
from  that  which  would  be  conveyed  by  our  phrase,  *  the  author/ 
Great  artists  may  be  knowable  from  their  works;  and  there  is  a 
singular  transparency  in  the  mind,  as  there  is  also  in  the  limpid 
language  of  Homer.  Old  as  he  is,  the  comprehensive  and  sys- 
tematic study  of  him  is  still  young.  It  had  hardly  begun  before 
the  I9th  century.  With  the  primary  source  of  information  found 
in  his  text,  we  have  to  combine  two  others:  (i)  the  scattered 
notices  supplied  by  ancient  tradition;  and,  (2)  the  valuable  and 
still  growing  illustrations  furnished  by  the  study  of  language, 
and  by  the  discoveries  and  learned  study  of  ancient  remains." 

Our  Earliest  View  of  Him.— "  At  the  first  dawn  of  the  historic 
period,  we  find  the  poems  established  in  popular  renown;  and  so 
prominent  that  a  school  of  minstrels  takes  the  name  of  Homer- 
idae  from  making  it  their  business  to  preserve  and  to  recite  them. 
Still,  the  question  as  to  whether  the  poems,  as  we  have  them,  can 
be  trusted,  whether  they  present  substantially  the  character  of 
what  may  be  termed  original  documents,  is  one  of  great,  but 
gradually  diminishing  difficulty.  It  is  also  of  importance,  be- 
cause of  the  nature  of  their  contents.  In  the  first  place,  they  give 
a  far  greater  amount  of  information,  than  is  to  be  found  in  any 
other  literary  production  of  the  same  compass.  In  the  second 
place,  that  information,  speaking  of  it  generally,  is  to  be  had  no- 
where else.  In  the  third  place,  it  is  information  of  the  utmost 
interest,  and  even  of  great  moment.  It  introduces  to  us,  in  the 
very  beginnings  of  their  experience,  the  most  gifted  people  of  the 
world,  and  enables  us  to  judge  how  they  became  such  as  in  later 
times  we  know  them ;  how  they  began  to  be  fitted  to  dis- 
charge the  splendid  part,  allotted  to  them  in  shaping  the  destinies 
of  the  world.  And  this  picture  is  exhibited  with  such  a  fulness 
both  of  particulars  and  of  vital  force,  that  perhaps  never  in  any 
country  has  an  age  been  so  completely  placed  upon  record.  Final- 
ly, amidst  the  increase  of  archaic  knowledge  on  all  sides,  we  begin 
to  find  a  multitude  of  points  of  contrast  between  the  Homeric 
poems  and  the  primitive  history  of  the  world,  as  it  is  gradually 
revealed .  by  records,  monuments,  and  language ;  so  that  they 


489 

are  coming  more  and  more  to  constitute  an   important   factor 
in  the  formation  of  that  history." 

'*  The  place  and  office  of  the  Greeks  in  regard  to  letters,  and 
to  the  culture  of  the  human  mind  throughout  all  time,  have  been 
admirably  described  in  the  opening  section  of  Mr.  J  ebb's  Primer 
of  Greek  Literature.  It  is  quite  idle  for  modern  theorists  to 
suppose  that  we  can  dispense  with  their  aid,  or  shake  off  what 
some  would  call  a  thraldom.  This  could  only  be  done  by  going 
back  to  a  state  which,  whatever  its  equipments  in  certain  re- 
spects, would  be,  in  essential  points,  one  nearer  to  barbarism 
than  that  which  we  now  hold.  The  work  of  the  Greeks  has  been 
done  once  for  all,  and  for  all  mankind. 

Homer's  Relation  to  It. — "  The  qualities  that  mark  Greek  letters 
in  general  are  pre-eminently  found  in  Homer ;  such  as  force, 
purpose,  measure,  fitness,  directness,  clearness,  and  completeness. 
To  these  he  adds  a  richness  and  variety,  a  comprehensive  uni- 
versality, which  is  given  only  to  the  highest  genius.  The  force, 
which  marks  a  full  and  healthy  development  in  mind  and  body, 
is  in  the  Greeks  generally,  not  thrown  idly  about,  but  addressed 
to  an  aim.  The  thought  is  in  strict  proportion  to  the  subject,  and 
the  language  is  fitted  exactly  to  the  thought.  It  goes  to  its  end 
by  the  straightest  road.  The  clearness  of  Homer  is  unrivalled  in 
literature.  The  passages  in  which  his  meaning  is  open  to  the 
smallest  shade  of  doubt,  either  as  to  thought  or  language,  might 
perhaps  be  counted  on  the  fingers.  Such  a  clearness  could  hardly 
survive  the  advent  of  philosophy.  It  was  the  privilege  of  the 
childhood  of  the  race,  a  true,  though  an  Herculean  childhood. 
Lastly;  the  assertion  may  create  greater  surprise  in  some,  but  it 
is  true,  that  Homer's  forms  of  expression  are  in  a  very  high 
degree  complete,  as  a  statue  shaped  and  polished  to  the  finger- 
nail was  in  the  Roman  proverb  complete ;  not  merely  in  their 
main  outlines,  but  in  refined  and  subtle  detail.  The  whole  of 
these  eminently  Greek  qualities  may  be  summed  up  in  one  phrase 
—  poetic  truth." 

His  Characteristic  Style. — "  Besides  his  general  prerogative  as 
an  universal  genius,  and  besides  the  properties  in  which  Homer 
is  followed,  and  as  it  were,  reproduced,  in  his  countrymen,  he 
has  other  particular  gifts  of  his  own.  For  example,  he  is  prob- 
ably the  most  characteristic  of  all  poets.  Traits  personal  to  him- 


490 


THE  EPIC 


self,  inhere  in  his  whole  work,  and  perpetually  reappear  upon  the 
surface.  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  admirably  described  the  fine  style 
of  Swift  as  the  style  which  puts  the  right  words  in  the  right 
places.  No  more  just  sentence  could  have  been  written  on  the 
style  of  Homer.  But  the  merit  thus  described  is  essentially  gen- 
eral. Homer  has  also  the  special  quality,  that  all  he  produces 
carries  the  maker's  mark.  But  the  maker's  mark,  when  too 
prominent,  constitutes  what  is  called  mannerism.  With  Homer, 
the  maker's  mark  never  obtrudes  the  maker,  or  places  him  be- 
tween the  reader  and  the  theme.  It  never  interferes  with  the 
aim  and  matter  of  the  poem.  Only  it  is  there,  ready  when 
wanted.  If  we  look  for  it,  we  find  it.  We  then  discover  that  in 
him  what  we  call  style,  while  he  has  the  simplest  of  all  styles,  is 
also,  setting  aside  the  class  of  mannerists,  perhaps  the  most  pecu- 
liar to  the  individual.  It  would  be  hardly  possible  to  quote  five 
lines  from  him,  which  must  not  at  once  by  internal  evidence  be 
recognized  as  his.  Even  in  the  smallest  shred  of  the  painting,  the 
painter's  touch  is  seen.  So  that  though  imitated  often,  in  form 
and  in  material,  the  imitations  of  him  are  known  by  their  trick  and 
effort,  not  by  their  likeness." 

Homer's  Relation  to  Greek  Poetry  in  Its  Several  Branches.— 
"  Passing  from  these  fragmentary  remarks,  a  few  words  may 
be  added  on  Homer's  more  direct  contributions  to  the  literature 
of  his  country,  and  indeed  of  the  world.  From  him  has  been 
drawn  the  epic,  which  I  suppose  contests  with  the  drama  the 
title  to  supremacy  among  the  kinds  of  poetry.  It  seems  to  me, 
however,  that  Homer  stands  in  a  nearer  relation,  than  has  com- 
monly been  perceived,  to  the  theatre  of  his  country.  And  this, 
not  only  on  account  of  the  remarkable  degree  in  which  he  con- 
ducts the  action  of  his  poems  through  the  medium  of  the  speeches. 
In  its  earliest  acknowledged  stage  the  Greek  drama  shows  us  but 
a  single  actor  or  reciter,  together  with  a  chorus  chanting  odes 
in  honor  of  Dionusos :  upon  which  chorus  there  certainly  devolved 
the  office  of  passing  judgments,  according  to  right  and  truth, 
upon  the  action  of  the  piece.  Now  Homer,  reciting  his  own 
poems,  was  himself  an  actor,  using  a  musical  accompaniment : 
and  he  introduces  from  time  to  time,  under  the  name  of  Tis  (tis), 
a  personage  extrinsic  to  the  action,  who  performs  the  part  of 
a  judicious  observer,  and  is  the  organ,  like  the  chorus,  of  a 


HOMER  4QI 

sound  public  opinion.  The  poetry  of  Homer  appears  to  have 
supplied  the  basis  of  the  hymns  which  arc  untruly  associated 
with  his  name  as  their  composer;  and  it  is  easy  to  perceive  how 
the  elegy  might  find  food  from  his  laments  (thretws)  over  the 
dead,  and  the  war-song  of  Turtaios  derive  its  inspiration  from 
the  whole  strain  of  the  Iliad.  In  the  view  of  Aristophanes,  he 
seems  to  have  been  properly  the  poet  of  war.  The  triumphal 
hymn  of  praise,  or  paian,  is  commemorated  in  the  Iliad,  as  al- 
ready established  in  use." 

To  Oratory. — "  There  is  one  noble  branch  of  Greek  Literature, 
which  we  cannot  but  refer  markedly  to  Homer,  namely,  its  politi- 
cal oratory.  For  the  oratory  of  argument  and  sarcasm,  we  turn 
to  the  embassy  of  the  Ninth  Ilaid  in  the  barrack  of  Achilles :  for 
the  oratory  of  passion  and  withering  invective,  to  the  debate  in 
the  assembly  of  the  First  Book,  or  to  the  wonderful  speech  of 
Odysseus  in  reply  to  the  insolence  of  the  Scherian  Prince,  given  in 
the  Eighth  Odyssey.  I  know  not  where  to  find  grander  models ; 
and  I  cannot  think  Achilles  in  any  way  inferior  to  Demosthenes. 
Nor  was  this  a  bye-blow  of  the  poet's  genius.  We  have  seen  that 
the  subject  of  public  speech  had  a  large  and  well-defined  place 
in  his  mind ;  and  one  of  the  very  few  passages  in  his  poems,  that 
can  be  called  properly  descriptive  (introduced  however  in  a 
speech),  will  be  found  in  the  eight  splendid  lines  of  the  Third 
Iliad  (216-223),  which  celebrate  the  eloquence  of  Odysseus." 

To  History.— "  Less  direct  than  the  relation  of  Homer  to  the 
oratory  of  Greece,  but  still  sufficiently  perceptible,  is  the  manner 
in  which  his  poems  supply  the  first  suggestion  of  the  great  work 
of  the  historians.  Apart  from  the  mere  incidents  of  the  war  of 
Troy,  or  from  whatever  nucleus  of  truth  there  may  be  in  the  ad- 
ventures of  Odvsseus.  Homer  is  the  historian  of  their  age  in  the 
picture  he  has  given  us  of  its  mind,  its  institutions  and  its  man- 
ners. Nor  does  it  seem  possible  to  account  for  the  large  num- 
ber of  important  pre-Troic  Legends  that  he  has  introduced,  es- 
pecially into  the  Iliad,  upon  any  other  ground  than  this,  that  the 
bard  of  the  heroic  age,  making  use  of  the  only  vehicle  it  afforded, 
worked  with  positive  historic  aims." 

Philosophy  a  Marked  Exception. — "  But  if  Homer  can  thus  be 
exhibited  as  the  father  of  Greek  letters  in  most  of  their  branches, 


492  THE  EPIC 

there  is  one  great  exception,  which  belongs  to  a  later  develop- 
ment. That  exception  was  the  philosophy  of  Greece,  which 
seems  to  have  owed  its  first  inception  to  the  Asiatic  contact  es- 
tablished after  the  great  eastern  migration.  The  absence  of  all 
abstract  or  metaphysical  ideas  from  Homer  is  truly  remark- 
able. Of  all  poets,  he  is  the  most  objective  and  the  least 
speculative.  Of  the  impersonated  Unseen,  no  poet  has  made 
such  effective  employment;  of  the  Unseen,  except  as  con- 
nected with  impersonation,  he  never  I  think  makes  use,  unless 
on  two  occasions;  one  (vol.  vii.  36)  where  the  ships  of  the 
Phaiakes  are  as  swift  as  a  wing,  or  as  a  thought ;  and  the  other, 
when  he  compares  the  agitated  mind  of  Hera  with  the  quickened 
intelligence  of  a  man  stimulated  and  informed  with  much  travel 
(//.  xv.  30).  The  nearest  approach  to  these  cases  is  perhaps 
to  be  found  in  such  passages  as  the  reflection  of  Achilles  on  the 
mixed  dispensation  of  life,  and  its  preponderating  sadness.  But 
this  is  incorporated  thought.  Two  caskets  are  on  the  floor  of 
heaven :  the  contents  are  respectively  good  and  evil.  From  them 
Zeus  dispenses  the  mixed  fortunes  of  some,  and  the  unmixed 
misery  of  others.  Homer  was  not  an  optimist.  But  neither 
did  he  multiply  gratuitous  perplexities.  The  controversies  of 
materialism  were  unknown  to  him.  All  the  world,  all  life,  all 
experience,  filled  his  magazine;  for  him  mind  and  matter  had 
suffered  no  breach  of  harmony.  Human  life  had  an  aspect 
mostly  sad:  but  the  universe,  as  to  its  general  constitution,  was 
still  in  tune." 

Criticism  by  Professor  R.  C.  Jebb. — "  Achilles  and  Odysseus 
are  two  characters  which  always  had  a  strong  hold  upon  the  Greek 
imagination.  The  Greek  idea  of  human  perfection  was  a  wise 
mind  in  a  beautiful  body,  good  counsel  joined  to  a  noble  action. 
Noble  action  is  pre-eminently  represented  by  Achilles,  good  coun- 
sel by  Odysseus.  Odysseus  is  brave,  but  he  is  especially  the 
man  of  subtle  intellect  and  ready  resource.  It  was  a  grave  fault 
of  the  Greeks  that  they  cared  too  little  whether  that  quickness 
of  wit  which  they  so  much  admired,  was  or  was  not  honest.  It 
is  strange  that  the  noble  Homeric  conception  of  Odysseus  should 
have  been  lowered  by  later  Greek  poets  who,  dwelling  chiefly 
on  his  subtlety,  sometimes  made  him  an  unscrupulous  knave, 
reckless  of  everything  except  personal  gain.  No  such  shadow 


HOMER 

ever  fell  on  the  Homeric  Achilles.  His  irresistible  might  and 
splendor  in  war,  his  stormy  human  passions,  his  fine  sense,  fitting 
in  the  son  of  a  goddess,  for  what  is  soothing  or  strengthening 
in  the  messages  of  the  gods,  his  love  passing  the  love  of  women, 
his  foresight  of  an  early  death,  even  when  life  was  most  daz- 
zling, made  him  glow  before  the  Greek  imagination  with  an  im- 
mortal youth,  as  the  very  type  of  chivalry  in  their  race.  The 
early  ambitions  of  Alexander  the  Great  were  fired  by  this  Homeric 
vision  of  Achilles.  Nothing  can  show  better  how  vividly  the 
Homeric  Poems  wrought  in  Greek  life  and  history  than  to  see 
how  real  the  young  Greek  hero  at  Troy  was  to  the  young  Greek 
conqueror  of  the  East." 

Homeric  Theology. — "  The  Odyssey  bears  the  marks  of  a  later 
time  than  the  llaid.  Still,  there  is  a  general  agreement  between 
the  two  poems  in  the  broad  features  of  the  age  which  they  de- 
scribe. Each  poem  is  a  picture  of  an  heroic  age  on  which  the 
poet  looks  back  as  far-off  in  the  past,  but  for  his  idea  of  which, 
he  draws  in  some  measure  on  his  own  days.  The  deities  of  the 
Iliad  are  colossal  men  and  women,  stronger  and  fairer  than  mor- 
tals, able  to  work  wonders  and  to  take  any  form  they  please,  but 
not  all-powerful  or  all-wise,  and  often  immoral.  They  dwell  on 
the  high-crowned  mountain  Olympus,  and  are  called  the  Olym- 
pian gods.  Zeus,  a  sensual,  passionate,  but  genial  person  (Jupi- 
ter, the  sky),  is  their  chief,  having  overthrown  the  dynasty  of  his 
father  Cronus  (Saturn),  which  preceded  the  Olympian  dynasty. 
Next  to  Zeus  are  four  great  deities  —  Here,  his  queen,  with 
whom  he  quarrels  much;  Apollo;  Athene  (who  represents 
especially  intelligence)  ;  and  Poseidon,  god  of  the  sea.  Other 
gods  sometimes  dispute  the  supremacy  of  Zeus,  and  he  quells 
them  by  threats  or  by  force.  The  gods  act  on  man  chiefly  by 
hurting  or  comforting  his  body  in  some  way,  and  expect  some 
offerings  of  savoury  food  and  wine.  In  the  Odyssey  we  find  a 
more  spiritual  conception.  Olympus  has  become  a  shadowy,  far- 
off  place,  where  the  gods  dwell  apart.  Zeus  is  now  indisputably 
supreme.  The  gods  now  act  not  only  on  man's  body,  but  also, 
and  chiefly,  on  his  mind  and  heart.  They  also  wander  over  the 
earth  in  disguise,  spying  out  who  are  just  among  men.  The 
Homeric  poems  did  much  towards  establishing  a  fixed  standard 
type  for  each  deity,  and  reconciling  the  inconsistencies  of  different 


494  TUE  RPIC 

local  worships.     But  they  did  not  create  this  theology,  which  was 
far  older." 

Homeric  Morality. — "  The  Homeric  gods  punish  a  man  for  dis- 
obeying or  affronting  them  in  any  way ;  but  they  do  not  always 
punish  him  for  immoral  actions.  Fear  of  the  gods,  then,  though 
powerful  as  far  as  it  goes,  would  not  go  very  far  towards  making 
the  Homeric  man  moral.  For  that  he  needs  a  moral  law,  inde- 
pendent of  his  religion.  Among  the  warriors  of  the  Iliad,  such  a 
law  is  represented  chiefly  by  what  the  Greeks  call  Aidos,  and 
which  is  often  nearly  what  we  call  the  sense  of  honor.  Along 
with  this,  there  is  another  principle  which  comes  out  more  clearly 
in  the  Odyssey  than  in  the  Iliad,  this  is  nemesis,  literally  '  dis- 
tribution, then,  that  feeling  which  is  roused  in  the  mind  by  an  un- 
just distribution  —  moral  indignation.  A  man  feels  aidos  for 
the  opinion  of  his  neighbors.  He  feels  nemesis  when  his  own 
sense  of  right  is  shocked.  In  the  Odyssey  we  find  a  riper  moral 
sense  than  in  the  Iliad,  and  a  much  larger  number  of  words  to 
express  moral  distinctions.  The  age  of  reflection  has  begun,  as 
the  bits  of  proverbial  philosophy  in  the  Odyssey  show.  Homeric 
morality  is  high  relatively  to  Homeric  relation ;  but,  as  a  rule,  the 
Homeric  man  recognizes  duties,  not  towards  his  fellow-creatures 
as  such,  but  only  towards  certain  classes  of  them,  who  stand  in 
a  special  relation  to  himself,  as  masters,  or  dependents,  or 
guests,  or  suppliants." 

Criticism  by  Frederick  Schlegel. — "  The  reiish  with  which 
the  ancient  Greeks  appreciated  the  Homeric  poems  was  ma- 
terially enhanced  by  patriotic  associations,  whilst  we  are  interested 
in  them  chiefly  as  vivid  and  beautiful  representations  of  heroic 
life.  They  are  free  from  the  charge  of  narrow  views,  or  adul- 
atory panegyrics  exclusively  bestowed  on  a  particular  lineage  —  a 
charge  such  as  may  be  justly  preferred  against  the  old  songs 
of  Arabia,  or  those  of  Ossian.  Breathing  the  spirit  of  purest 
freedom,  their  representations  of  the  phenomena  of  nature  and 
of  the  varieties  of  human  character,  evince  a  sensibility  pure  and 
universal.  A  whole  world  opens  out  before  us  as  we  read  them, 
a  world  of  living  and  moving  imagery.  The  two  prominent 
figures,  Achilles  and  Ulysses,  seem  to  start  from  the  canvas  into 
warm  life ;  yet  they  are  but  characters  and  ideas  so  general  as 


HOMER  495 

to  be  found  repeated  in  nearly  all  Greek  Hero  legends ;  though 
never  again  sketched  with  so  masterly  a  hand,  or  so  exquisitely 
finished.  Achilles,  a  hero  destined  to  exhaust  all  the  delights  of 
mortality,  whilst  still  in  the  bloom  and  pride  of  youthful  vigor, 
doomed  moreover  to  be  cut  off  by  tragic  fate  in  the  prime  of  his 
days,  is  the  loftier  conception  of  the  two:  an  echo  of  this  chord 
may  be  found  in  the  character  of  many  a  hero  in  the  legends  of 
various  lands ;  next  in  beauty  to  the  Grecian,  perhaps,  those  of 
our  own  northern  clime.  The  legendary  traditions  of  heroic 
times,  among  the  sprightliest  nations,  are  overshadowed  by  elegiac 
sensibilities,  plaints  full  of  tenderness,  and  sometimes  shrouded 
in  sombre  grief.  As  if  the  transition  from  an  age  of  glorious 
freedom  and  heroism  had  impressed  succeeding  generations  with 
a  feeling  of  dreary  confinement,  or  the  bard  would  transfer  to  the 
fictions  of  those  times  exclusively,  reminiscences  of  some  pristine 
state  of  bliss,  deep-seated  in  the  bosom  o.f  the  whole  human 
family.  A  less  magnificent,  but  still  richly-attractive  form  of 
poetic  heroism  is  presented  in  the  person  of  Ulysses,  the  roving, 
travelled  hero,  discreet,  and  experienced  as  brave,  fitted  to  under- 
go danger  and  encounter  adventures  of  every  sort.  Ample  scope 
is  thus  afforded  for  portraying,  in  easy  flowing  style,  the  rare 
sights  and  products  of  foreign  lands.  In  energy  and  pathos,  the 
epics  of  the  north,  in  brilliant  coloring,  those  of  the  east,  as  far 
as  our  acquaintance  extends,  may  compare  with,  if  they  do  not 
surpass,  the  Homeric  poems.  But  the  peculiar  distinction  of  the 
latter  is  the  amount  of  living  truth  and  clearness  blended  in  har- 
monious unison  with  an  almost  infantile  simplicity  and  affluent 
fancy.  The  narrative,  whilst  entering  into  minute  detail  with 
all  the  garrulousness  of  age,  never  grows  tiresome,  owing  to  the 
extreme  freshness  and  grace  of  imagery  ever  and  anon  dex- 
trously  shifted.  Character,  passion,  and  dialogue  are.  unfolded 
with  dramatic  skill,  and  individual  circumstances  described  with 
almost  historical  fidelity.  From  this  last  quality,  which  com- 
pletely distinguishes  Homer  from  all  other  —  even  Grecian  - 
bards,  he  possibly  derives  his  name.  Homeros  signifies  a  surety 
or  witness :  and  on  account  of  his  truthful  accuracy  as  a  minstrel 
of  the  heroic  time,  he  richly  deserves  this  appellation.  To  us  he 
is,  indeed,  Homeros,  a  surety  as  well  as  a  witness  of  the  epic 
pges  in  their  genuine  state.  As  for  the  other  meaning,  relative 
to  his  blindness,  also  involved  in  the  word,  it  is  clearly  conjee- 


496  THE 

tural,  forming  part  of  a  tissue  of  inventions  respecting  the  life 
of  one  wholly  unknown  to  us  in  his  person,  and  it  is  undeserving 
of  a  moment's  consideration.  Without  the  direct  testimony  of 
Milton  it  would  be  sufficiently  apparent  from  internal  evidence 
in  his  poems,  that  he  saw  only  with  the  eye  of  the  spirit,  and 
tasted  not  the  exhilarating  joyousness  of  sunlight.  A  melancholy 
haze  broods  over  the  page  of  Ossian,  and  it  may  reasonably  be 
inferred  that  the  gloom  of  night  shaded  the  minstrel's  brow. 
But  whoever  would  ascribe  the  composition  of  the  Iliad  and 
Odyssey,  the  most  lucid  and  transparent  of  all  the  poems  of 
antiquity,  to  a  blind  bard  must,  before  pronouncing  such  a  ver- 
dict, determine  to  shut  his  own  eyes  to  every  kind  of  proof  and 
argument.  In  whatever  century  the  Homeric  poems  originated, 
they  transport  us  into  times  when  the  heroic  element  was  fast 
approaching  dissolution,  or  had  just  expired.  Two  worlds  ap- 
pear to  meet  in  them :  the  wondrous  past  which  seemed  to  be 
never  very  far  remo'ved  from  the  poet's  gaze,  whilst  occasionally 
it  stood  vividly  before  him ;  and  the  present  breathing  world,  in 
the  midst  of  which  he  lived  and  moved. 

Virgil. —  Publius  Virgilius  Maro  was  born  near  Mantua  in 
70  B.  C. ;  died  at  Brundisium  in  19  B.  C.  Next  to  Homer,  he 
is  the  most  famous  of  classic  epic  writers.  He  was  an  intimate 
friend  of  Horace  and  enjoyed  the  patronage  of  Maecenas.  The 
last  years  of  his  life  were  spent  in  Campania.  Besides  the 
^Eneid,  he  wrote  a  number  of  Eclogues  and  Georgics. 

Criticism  by  Professor  W.  Sellar. — "  The  work  which  re- 
mained for  Virgil  to  accomplish  was  the  addition  of  a  great 
Roman  epic  to  literature. 

It  was  desirable  to  select  a  single  heroic  action  which  should 
belong  to  the  cycle  of  legendary  events  celebrated  in  the  Homeric 
poems,  and  which  should  be  associated  with  the  whole  fortunes 
of  Rome  and  with  the  supreme  interests  of  the  hour.  The  only 
subject  which  in  any  way  satisfied  these  apparently  irreconcilable 
conditions  was  that  of  the  wanderings  of  ^Eneas  and  of  his  final 
settlement  in  Latium.  The  story,  though  not  of  Roman  origin, 
but  of  a  composite  growth,  had  been  familiar  to  the  Romans 
from  the  beginning  of  their  literature ;  and  had  been  recognized 


VIRGIL  497 

by  official  acts  of  senate  and  people  as  associated  with  the  na- 
tional fortunes.  The  subject  enabled  Virgil  to  tell  over  again 
and  to  give  novelty  to  the  tale  of  the  fall  of  Troy,  and  to  tell 
a  tale  of  sea-adventure  similar  to  that  of  the  wanderings  of 
Odysseus.  But  the  special  applicability  of  his  subject  to  his 
purposes  was  determined  by  the  claim  which  the  Julii,  a  patrician 
family  of  Alban  origin,  made  to  descent  from  lulus,  the  sup- 
posed son  of  JEneas  and  founder  of  Alba  Longa.  The  personal, 
as  distinct  from  the  national  and  artistic,  motives  of  the  poem 
could  be  satisfied  by  this  subject  alone.  The  JEneid  is  thus  at 
once  the  epic  of  the  national  life  under  its  new  conditions  and 
an  imitative  epic  of  human  actions,  manners,  and  character. 
The  true  keynote  of  the  poem  is  struck  in  the  line  with  which 
the  poem  closes:  — 

'  Tantcz  molts  erat  Romanam   condcrc  gcntem* 

The  idea  which  underlies  the  whole  action  of  the  poem  is  that 
of  the  great  part  played  by  Rome  in  the  history  of  the  world, 
that  part  being  from  of  old  determined  by  divine  decree,  and 
carried  out  through  the  virtue  of  her  sons.  The  idea  of  universal 
empire  is  thus  the  dominant  idea  of  the  poem.  With  this  idea, 
that  of  the  unbroken  continuity  of  the  national  life  is  intimately 
associated.  The  reverence  for  antiquity,  for  old  customs  and 
the  traditions  of  the  past,  was  a  large  element  in  the  national 
sentiment,  and  has  a  prominent  place  in  the  Mncid.  So,  too,  has 
the  feeling  of  local  attachment  and  of  the  power  of  local  associa- 
tion over  the  imagination.  It  might  be  said  of  the  manner  of 
life  represented  in  the  2Eneid  that  it  is  no  more  true  to  any  actual 
condition  of  human  society  than  that  represented  in  the  Eclogues. 
But  may  not  the  same  be  said  of  all  idealizing  restoration  of  a 
remote  past  in  an  age  of  advanced  civilization?  The  life  repre- 
sented in  the  (Edipus  Tyrannus  or  in  King  Lear  is  not  the  life 
of  the  Periclan  nor  of  the  Elizabethan  age,  nor  is  it  conceivable 
as  the  real  life  of  a  prehistoric  age.  The  truth  of  such  a  repre- 
sentation is  to  be  judged,  not  by  its  relation  to  any  actual  state 
of  things  ever  realized  in  the  world,  but  by  its  relation  to  an 
ideal  of  the  imagination  —  the  ideal  conception  of  how  man, 
endowed  with  the  gifts  and  graces  of  a  civilized  time,  but  who 
had  not  yet  lost  the  youthful  buoyancy  of  a  mo-e  primitive  age, 
might  play  his  part  under  circumstances  which  would  afford 


49g  THE  EPIC 

scope  for  the  passions  and  activities  of  a  vigorous  personality, 
and  for  the  refined  emotions  and  subtle  reflections  of  an  era 
of  high  intellectual  and  moral  cultivation.  The  verdict  of  most 
readers  of  the  sEneid  will  be  that  Virgil  does  not  satisfy  this  con- 
dition, as  it  is  satisfied  by  Sophocles  and  Shakespeare.  Yet  there 
is  a  considerable  attraction,  in  the  compromise  which  Virgil  has 
produced,  between  the  life  which  he  knew  by  experience  and  that 
which  he  saw  in  the  past  of  his  imagination.  There  is  a  cour- 
tesy, dignity,  and  consideration  for  the  feelings  of  others  in  the 
manners  of  his  chief  personages,  such  as  might  be  exhibited  by 
the  noblest  and  most  commanding  natures  in  an  age  of  chivalry 
and  in  an  age  of  culture.  The  charm  of  primitive  simplicity  is 
present  in  some  passages  of  the  JEneid,  the  spell  of  luxurious 
pomp  in  others.  The  actual  delight  of  voyaging  past  beautiful 
islands,  familiar  to  travelers  in  the  Augustan  age,  is  enhanced 
by  the  suggestion  of  the  adventurous  spirit  which  sent  the  first 
explorers  abroad  in  search  of  unknown  settlements.  Where  Vir- 
gil is  least  real,  and  least  successfully  ideal,  and  where  conse- 
quently he  is  most  purely  imitative,  is  in  the  battle-scenes  of  the 
later  books.  They  afford  scope,  however,  to  his  patriotic  desire 
to  do  justice  to  the  martial  energy  of  the  Italian  races;  and 
some  of  them  have  a  peculiar  beauty  from  the  pathos  with  which 
the  death  of  some  of  the  more  interesting  personages  of  his  story 
is  described." 

Even  those,  who  have  been  insensible  to  the  representative 
and  to  the  human  interest  of  the  lEneid,  have  generally  recog- 
nized the  artistic  excellence  of  the  poem.  This  is  conspicuous 
both  in  the  conception  of  the.  action  and  the  arrangement  of 
its  successive  stages  and  in  the  workmanship  of  details.  In 
variety  of  interest  and  finish  of  execution  the  first  eight  books 
are  superior  to  the  last  four.  Each  of  the  former  has  a  large 
and  distinct  sphere  of  interest,  and  they  each  contribute  to  the 
impression  of  the  work  as  a  whole.  In  the  first  book,  we  have 
the  spectacle  of  the  storm,  of  the  prophecy  of  Jove,  and  of  the 
building  of  Carthage;  in  the  second,  the  spectacle  of  the  de- 
struction of  Troy ;  in  the  third,  the  voyage  among  the  islands 
and  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean;  in  the  fourth,  the  tragedy  of 
Dido;  in  the  fifth,  the  rest  in  the  Sicilian  bay,  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Eryx ;  in  the  sixth,  the  revelation  of  the  spiritual  world 
of  Virgo's  imagination,  and  of  the  souls  of  those  who  built  up 


499 

the  greatness  of  Rome  in  their  pre-existent  state,  in  their  shad- 
owy dwelling-place;  in  the  seventh,  the  arrival  of  the  Trojans 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber  and  the  gathering  of  the  Italian 
clans;  in  the  eighth,  the  first  sight  of  the  hills  of  Rome,  and 
the  prophetic  representation  of  the  great  crises  in.  Roman  his- 
tory leading  up  to  the  greatest  of  them  all,  the  crowning  vic- 
tory of  Actium.  Among  these  books  we  may  infer  that  Virgil 
assigned  the  palm  to  the  second,  the  fourth,  and  the  sixth,  as 
he  selected  them  to  read  to  Augustus  and  the  members  of  the 
imperial  family.  The  interest  flags  in  the  last  four;  nor  is  it 
possible  to  feel  the  culminating  sympathy  with  the  final 
combat  between  Hector  and  Achilles.  Yet  a  personal  interest  is 
awakened  in  the  adventures  and  fate  of  Pallas,  Lausus,  and 
Camilla..  Virgil  may  himself  have  become  weary  of  the  suc- 
cession of  battle-scenes  —  '  eadem  horrida  bella,' —  which  the  re- 
quirements of  epic  poetry  rather  than  the  impulses  of  his  own 
genius  or  the  taste  of  his  readers  called  upon  him  to  portray ; 
and  this  may  partly  account  for  the  sense  of  discouragement 
which  he  is  supposed  to  have  felt  at  the  end  of  his  labors.  There 
is  not  only  a  less  varied  interest,  there  is  greater  inequality  of 
workmanship  of  the  later  books,  owing  to  the  fact  that  they  had 
not  received  their  author's  final  revisal.  Yejt  in  them  there  are 
many  lines  and  passages  of  great  power,  pathos,  and  beauty. 
Virgil  brought  the  two  great  instruments  of  varied  and  con- 
tinuous harmony  and  of  a  rich,  chastened,  and  noble  style  to 
the  highest  perfection  of  which  the  Latin  tongue  was  capable. 
The  rhythm  and  style  of  the  JEneid  is  more  unequal  than  the 
rhythm  and  style  of  the  Georgics,  but  is  a  larger  and  more 
varied  instrument.  The  note  of  his  supremacy  among  all  the 
poetic  artists  of  his  country  is  that  subtle  fusion  of  the  music 
and  the  meaning  of  language  which  touches  the  deepest  and 
most  secret  springs  of  emotion.  He  touches  especially  the  emo- 
tions of  reverence  and  of  a  yearning  for  a  higher  spiritual  life, 
and  the  sense  of  nobleness  in  human  affairs,  in  great  institutions, 
and  great  natures ;  the  sense  of  the  sanctity  of  human  affections, 
of  the  imaginative  spell  exercised  by  the  past,  of  the  mystery 
of  the  unseen  world.  This  is  the  secret  of  the  power  which  his 
words  have  had  over  some  of  the  deepest  and  greatest  natures 
both  in  ages  of  faith  and  in  more  positive  times.  No  words 
more  subtly  and  truly  express  the  magic  of  his  style  than  those 


500  THE  EPIC 

in  which  Dr.  Newman  characterizes  '  his  single  words  and 
phrases,  his  pathetic  half-lines,  giving-  utterance  as  the  voice  of 
nature  herself  to  that  pain  and  weariness,  yet  hope  of  better 
things,  which  is  the  experience  of  her  children  in  every  age/  ' 

Criticism  by  Charles  Anthon,  LL.D.—"  The  JEnei-d  has 
for  its  subject  the  settlement  of  the  Trojans  in  Italy.  This  pro- 
duction belongs  to  a  nobler  class  of  poetry  than  the  Georgics, 
and  is,  perhaps,  equally  perfect  in  its  kind.  It  ranks,  indeed, 
in  the  very  highest  order,  and  it  was  in  this  exalted  species  that 
Virgil  was  most  fitted  to  excel.  Undisturbed  by  excess  of  pas- 
sion, and  never  hurried  away  by  the  current  of  ideas,  he  calmly 
consigned  to  immortal  verse  the  scenes  which  his  fancy  had 
first  painted  as  lovely,  and  which  his  understanding  had  after- 
ward approved.  The  extent,  too,  and  depth  of  the  design  pro- 
posed in  the  ALncid,  rendered  this  subjection  to  the  judgment 
indispensable.  It  would  be  absurd  to  suppose,  with  some  critics, 
that  Virgil  intended  to  give  instruction  to  princes  in  the  art  of 
settling  colonies  (Catrou,  CEuvres  de  Virgile,  vol.  3,  p.  486),  or 
to  supply  Augustus  with  political  rules  for  the  government  and 
legislation  of  a  great  empire ;  but  he  evidently  designed,  not 
merely  to  deduce  the  descent  of  Augustus  and  the  Romans  from 
y£neas  and  his  companions,  but,  by  creating  a  perfect  char- 
acter in  hi's  hero,  to  shadow  out  the  eminent  qualities  of  his 
imperial  patron ;  to  recommend  his  virtues  to  his  countrymen, 
who  would  readily  apply  to  him  the  amiable  portrait;  and  per- 
haps to  suggest  that  he  was  the  ruler  of  the  world  announced 
of  old  by  the  prophecies  and  oracles  of  the  Saturnian  land. 
(/£n.  '6,  789,  seqq.)  No  one  who  has  read  the  Mneid,  and 
studied  the  historical  character  of  Augustus,  or  the  early  events 
of  his  reign,  can  doubt  that  JEneas  is  an  allegorical  represen- 
tation of  that  emperor.  The  chief  objection  which  critics  in 
all  ages  have  urged  against  the  2Ene\d,  or  at  least,  against  the 
poetical  character  of  its  author,  is  the  defect  in  what  forms  the 
most  essential  quality  of  a  poet,  originality  and  the  power  of 
invention.  It  has  never,  indeed,  been  denied  that  he  possessed 
a  species  of  invention,  if  it  may  be  so  called,  which  consists 
in  placing  ideas  that  have  been  preoccupied  in  a  new  light,  or 
presenting  assemblages,  which  have  been  already  exhibited,  in 
a  new  point  of  view.  Nor  has  it  been  disputed  that  he  often 


VIRGIL  50I 

succeeds  in  bestowing  on  them  the  charm  of  novelty,  by  the 
power  of  more  perfect  diction,  and  by  that  poetic  touch  which 
transmutes  whatever  it  lights  on,  into  gold.  But  it  is  alleged 
that  he  has  contrived  few  incidents,  and  opened  up  no  new 
veins  of  thought.  It  is  well  known  that  the  Roman  dramatic 
writers,  instead  of  contriving  plots  of  their  own,  translated  the 
masterpieces  of  Sophocles,  Euripides,  and  Menander.  The  same 
imitative  spirit  naturally  enough  prevailed  in  the  first  attempts 
at  epic  poetry.  When  any  beautiful  model  exists  in  an  art,  it 
so  engrosses  and  intimidates  the  mind,  that  we  are  apt  to 
think  that,  in  order  to^execute  successfully  any  work  of  a  simi- 
lar description,  the  approved  prototype  must  be  imitated.  It  is 
supposed  that  what  had  pleased  once,  must  please  always;  and 
circumstances,  in  themselves  unimportant,  or  perhaps  accidental, 
are  converted  into  general  and  immutable  rules.  It  was  nat- 
ural, then,  for  the  Romans,  struck  with  admiration  at  the  sublime 
and  beautiful  productions  of  the  epic  muse  of  Greece,  to  follow 
her  lesson  with  servility.  The  mind  of  Virgil  also  led  him  to 
imitation.  His  excellence  lay  in  the  propriety,  beauty,  and 
majesty  of  his  poetical  character,  in  his  judicious  contrivance  of 
composition,  his  correctness  of  drawing,  his  purity  of  taste,  his 
artful  adaptation  of  the  conception  of  others  to  his  own  purposes, 
and  his  skill  in  the  combination  of  materials.  Accordingly,  when 
Virgil  first  applied  himself  to  frame  a  poem,  which  might  cele- 
brate his  imperial  master,  and  emulate  the  productions  of  Greece, 
in  a  department  of  poetry  wherein  she  was  as  yet  unrivalled, 
he  first  naturally  bent  a  reverent  eye  on  Homer ;  and,  though  he 
differed  widely  from  his  Grecian  master  in  the  qualities  of  his 
mind  and  genius,  he  became  his  most  strict  and  devoted  disciple. 
The  Latin  dramatists,  in  preparing  their  pieces  for  the  stage,  had 
frequently  compounded  them  of  the  plots  of  two  Greek  plays, 
melted,  as  it  were,  into  one ;  and  thus  compensated  for  the  want 
of  invention  and  severe  simplicity  of  composition  by  greater 
richness  and  variety  of  incident.  From  their  example,  Virgil 
comprehended  in  his  plan  the  arguments  both  of  the  Iliad  and 
Odyssey;  the  one  serving  him  as  a  guide  for  the  wanderings 
and  adventures  of  his  hero  previous  to  the  landing  in  Latium,  and 
the  other  as  a  model  for  the  wars  which  he  sustained  in  Italy,  to 
gain  his  destined  bride,  Lavinia.  He  had  thus  before  him  all  the 
beauties  and  defects  of  Homer,  as  lights  to  gaze  at  and  as  rocks 


502 


THE  EPIC 


to  be  shunned  with  the  judgment  of  ages  on  both,  as  a  chart  which 
might  conduct  him  to  yet  greater  perfection." 

Dante. — Dante  Alighieri  was  born  in  Florence  in  1265,  and 
died  at  Ravenna  in  1321.  He  was,  like  his  father,  a  member 
of  the  Guelph  party.  Later  on,  he  strove  to  unite  the  Guelph 
and  Ghibellines,  and  thus  became  known  as  the  "  First  Italian." 
His  immortal  poem  was  written  while  the  author  suffered  ex- 
ile for  his  political  views.  He  wandered  from  one  country  to 
another,  according  to  one  account,  yisiting  Oxford.  He 
shares  with  Homer,  Virgil  and  Milton  the  honor  of  being  one 
of  the  four  great  epic  writers  of  the  world.  His  English 
translators,  Gary,  Norton  and  Longfellow,  are  widely  known. 

Criticism  by  Thomas  Carlyle. — "  I  give  Dante  my  highest 
praise  when  I  say  of  his  Divine  Comedy  that  it  is,  in  all  senses, 
genuinely  a  Song.  In  the  very  sound  of  it  there  is  a  canto  fcrnw; 
it  proceeds  as  by  a  chant.  The  language,  his  simple  Terza  rima, 
doubtless  helped  him  in  this.  The  essence  and  material  of  the 
work  are  themselves  rhythmic.  Its  depth  and  rapt  passion  and 
sincerity  make  it  musical ;  go  deep  enough,  there  is  music  every- 
where. A  true  inward  symmetry,  what  one  calls  an  architectural 
harmony,  reigns  in  it,  proportionates  it  all :  architectural ;  which 
also  partakes  of  the  character  of  music.  The  three  kingdoms, 
Inferno,  Purgatorio,  Paradiso,  look  out  on  one  another  like  com- 
partments of  a  great  edifice,  a  great  supernatural  world-cathedral, 
piled  up  there,  stern,  solemn,  awful.  It  is  at  bottom  the  sincercst 
of  all  poems,  and  sincerity  is  also  the  measure  of  its  worth.  It 
came  deep  out  of  the  author's  heart  of  hearts ;  and  it  goes  deep, 
and  through  long  generations,  into  ours.  Perhaps  one  ought  to 
say  that  intensity  is  the  prevailing  character  of  Dante's  genius ; 
his  greatness  has  concentred  itself  into  fiery  emphasis  and  depth  ; 
he  pierces  down  into  the  very  heart  of  Being  —  I  know  nothing 
so  intense  as  Dante.  There  is  a  brevity,  an  abrupt  precision  in 
him :  Tacitus  is  not  briefer,  more  condensed.  It  is  strange  with 
what  a  sharp,  decisive  grace  he  snatches  the  true  likeness  of  a 
matter ;  cuts  into  the  matter  as  with  a  pen  of  fire.  Dante's  paint- 
ing is  not  graphic  only,  brief,  true,  and  of  a  vividness  as  of  fire 


DANTS  503 

in  dark  night;  taken  on  the  wider  scale  it  is  every  way  noble, 
and  the  outcome  of  a  great  soul.  Dante  is  the  spokesman  of  the 
Middle  Ages ;  the  thought  they  lived  by  stands  here,  in  everlasting 
music.  These  sublime  ideas  of  his,  terrible  and  beautiful,  are 
the  fruit  of  the  Christian  Meditation  of  all  good  men  who  had 
gone  before  him.  As  to  his  influence  and  permanence,  Dante 
speaks,  to  the  noble,  the  pure  and  great,  in  all  times  and  places. 
Neither  does  he  grow  obsolete;  he  burns  as  a  pure  star,  fixed 
there  in  the  firmament,  at  which  the  great  and  high  of  all  ages 
kindle  themselves :  he  is  the  possession  of  all  the  chosen  of 
the  world  for  uncounted  time." 

Criticism  by  Brother  Azarias. — "  A  study  of  the  *  Divina 
Commedia/  in  any  of  its  aspects,  must  needs  be  a  study  of  the 
age  in  which  it  was  produced,  of  the  man  out  of  the  fulness 
of  whose  soul  it  issued  in  notes  strong  and  clear,  and  of  the 
various  influences  that  made  their  impress  upon  both  the  man 
and  the  poem.  Of  all  the  supreme  efforts  of  creative  genius,  the 
'  Divina  Commedia '  is  that  that  can  least  be  taken  out  of  the 
times  and  circumstances  that  gave  it  birth.  Its  contemporary 
history  and  its  contemporary  spirit  constitute  its  clearest  and 
best  commentary." 

"  The  age  of  Dante  was  preeminently  a  Catholic  age.  It  was 
an  age  when  men  lived  in  one  faith,  had  one  ritual,  recited  one 
creed,  were  taught  one  and  the  same  doctrine  and  practice,  and 
breathed  a  common  religious  atmosphere.  In  this  respect  there 
is  a  marked  contrast  between  the  Time-spirit  of  that  day  and  the 
Time-spirit  of  the  present.  The  great  chorus  of  modern  thought 
is  a  loud  proclaiming  of  pessimism  and  the  despair  that  would 
destroy  a  hereafter,  annihilate  the  soul,  and  ignore  a  Personal 
Divinity.  It  acts  in  open  defiance  of  the  whole  Christian  codes 
of  the  spiritual  truth  and  the  spiritual  law  that  are  essential  ele- 
ments in  all  modern  conduct  and  modern  thinking.  '  Its  crown- 
ing dogma,'  says  a  recent  writer,  '  is  written  even  now  between 
the  lines  in  many  a  dainty  volume,  that  evil  has  a  secret  holiness, 
and  sin  a  consecrating  magnificence/  Now  of  this  agnostic 
spirit  must  we  divest  ourselves  in  entering  upon  a  study  of 
Dante's  masterpiece.  There  we  wi1!  find  no  doubt.  All  is  in- 
tense earnestness.  The  light  of  faith  guides  the  poet's  steps 
through  the  hopeless  chambers  of  Hell  with  a  firmness  of  con- 


504 


THE  EPIC 


viction  that  knows  no  wavering;  it  bears  him  through  the 
sufferings  of  purgatory,  believing  strongly  in  its  reality ;  it  raises 
him  on  the  wings  of  love  and  contemplation  into  heaven's  em- 
pyrean, where  he  really  hopes  to  enjoy  bliss  far  beyond  aught 
whereof  he  sings.  If  we  would  understand  the  animating 
principle  of  the  poem,  it  behooves  us  to  cast  aside  all  idea 
that  these  divisions  of  it  were  a  mere  barbarous  and  cumber- 
some machinery.  Not  in  this  fashion  are  epoch-making  works 
constructed.  Dante  believed  in  the  existence  of  these  places 
and  in  the  reality  of  their  woes  and  their  joys  as  firmly  as  he 
believed  in  himself.  The  simple  faith  pervading  this  poem 
contrasts  strikingly  with  the  spirit  animating  '  Faust/  The  lat- 
ter is  designed  to  represent  the  innate  conflict  of  the  savage 
in  man  against  established  law  and  order  in  the  moral,  social,  and 
physical  world.  Mephistopheles  is  the  evil  genius  of  the  hero. 
He  impersonates  the  negation  of  truth  and  goodness.  But  much 
as  the  spirit-world  figures  in  Goethe's  masterpiece,  it  does  so 
not  as  a  living  reality,  but  as  a  mere  scaffolding  whereby  Goethe 
builds  up  the  artistic  structure  of  the  experiences  gathered  from 
study  and  observation,  or  found  in  the  recesses  of  his  own  large 
worldly  heart.  And  what  is  the  uppermost  lesson  that  one  may 
read  on  every  page  of  that  wonderful  panorama  of  modern  life? 
As  we  understand  it,  we  read  simply  the  dark  lesson,  that  only 
through  the  experiences  that  come  of  all  manner  of  self-indul- 
gence and  self-gratification  may  one  reach  the  broader  view  of 
life  and  attain  perfection.  This  is  attempting  to  make  one's 
own  way  out  of  the  wood  of  error  and  wrong-doing  at  the  risk 
of  being  devoured  by  the  beasts  of  predominant  sin  and  passion. 
The  hero  is  guilty  of  crime  the  most  atrocious;  he  brings  ruin 
in  his  wake ;  up  to  his  last  hour,  he  is  sensual  and  covetous ;  he 
deserts  not  his  sins ;  rather  his  sins  desert  him.  There  are 
regrets;  in  one  instance  there  is  remorse;  but  there  is  no  con- 
version. And  yet,  as  though  in  mockery  of  the  Christian  ideal 
of  personal  purity  and  holiness,  this  sinful  soul  is  triumphantly 
borne  to  heaven  amid  the  songs  of  angels.  The  poet  represents 
him  as  saved  by  the  only  saving  principle  on,  or  above,  or  under 
the  >  earth  —  the  principle  of  Love:  'Whoever  striving  exerts 
himself,  him  can  we  redeem,  and  if  he  also  participates  in  the 
Jove  from  on  high,  the  Blessed  Host  shall  meet  him  with  heartiest 
welcome.'  Faust,  like  Dante  in  his  poem,  is  the  special  object 


DANTE 


505 


of  womanly  love.  She  whose  heart  he  broke  pleads  in  his  behalf 
before  the  Mater  Gloriosa,  and  her  prayer  is  heard.  Faust  is 
saved.  Through  wreck  and  ruin  of  soul  and  body  he  reaches 
the  solution  of  life's  riddle.  '  Faust '  is  a  poem  of  selfishness. 
How  does  Dante  treat  the  same  theme  of  struggle  and  salvation  ? 
How  does  he  introduce  the  same  element  of  womanly  love? 
Beatrice,  after  upbraiding  Dante  for  his  sins,  says :  '  God's  high 
destiny  would  be  broken  if  Lethe  were  passed  and  such  food  were 
tasted  without  the  repentance  that  breaks  forth  in  tears.'  Such 
is  womanly  love  in  Dante's  conception :  spiritual,  elevating,  en- 
nobling, strengthening,  ideal.  These  characteristics  we  fail  to 
see  in  Goethe's  conception.  To  his  mind,  womanly  love  is  merely 
a  blind  love,  all-enduring  and  all-forgiving.  But  '  Faust '  is 
the  world-poem  of  this  century,  even  as  the  '  Divina  Commedia  ' 
is  of  the  thirteenth.  Goethe  is  the  mouthpiece  of  the  modern 
world ;  the  Middle  Ages  sing  through  Dante.  And  as  each  was 
a  child  of  his  age,  the  personality  of  each  is  a  determining  element 
written  into  the  fibre  of  both  great  poems." 

"  The  music  of  the  '  Paradise '  is  the  music  of  spiritual  life ; 
and  the  music  of  spiritual  life  can  be  interpreted  only  by  those 
into  whose  existence  spiritual  life  enters  as  a  living,  breathing 
reality.  It  is  a  music  articulate  and  familiar  to  each  religious 
man.  It  throbs  in  his  every  aspiration.  His  ear  has  been  at- 
tuned to  its  exquisite  cadences ;  its  harmony  vibrates  through 
the  pages  of  the  spiritual  book  he  reads ;  it  is  re-echoed  in  the 
sermons  and  exhortations  he  hears  and  in  the  hymns  he  chants ; 
his  whole  life  is  the  clearest  commentary  upon  this  poem  —  rather 
his  life  is  itself  the  living  poem  from  which  Dante  has  made 
a  marvelous  though  still  imperfect  transcript.  In  the  noblest 
themes  of  that  transcript,  he  recognizes  echoes  of  the  thoughts, 
sentiments,  and  aspirations  that  in  his  own  breast  are  continu- 
ously humming  unspeakable  music.  The  fervor  and  love  and 
high  thought  that  are  all  so  grandly  intensified  in  the  terse 
rhythm  of  the  '  Divina  Commedia**  are  the  ferver  and  love  and 
high  thought  that  are  daily  moving  tens  of  thousands  of  men 
and  women  to  lead  the  spiritual  life  therein  portrayed  in  obedience 
to  the  Love  Divine  that  rules  hearts  and  sways  the  heavens  in 
perpetual  harmony.  The  religious  man  in  sauntering  through 
the  vast  aisles  and  chapels  of  this  noble  cathedral  of  song,  here 
admiring  a  tender  and  touching  picture,  there  gazing  upon  a 


506  THE  EPIC 

scene  of  terror  penciled  in  vivid  colors,  again  drinking  in  the 
sweet  and  inspiring  strains  of  its  clear  organ-tones,  feels  that 
beneath  its  solemn  arches  his  soul  may  rest,  for  he  is  at  home 
in  his  Father's  House." 

Milton. —  John  Milton  was  born  in  1608  and  died  in  1674. 
He  was  the  son  of  a  London  Scrivener.  He  studied  at  St. 
Paul's  School  and  at  Christ's  College,  Cambridge.  Milton 
was  made  Latin  Secretary  to  the  new  Commonwealth  which 
was  inaugurated  by  Crofiwell.  The  writings  of  Milton  are 
voluminous,  divided  between  verse  and  prose.  Much  of  his 
prose  work  is  polemic ;  his  verse  is  lyric  and  dramatic  as  well 
as  epic;  the  Ode  on  the  l.ativity,  the  Sonnet  to  Shakespeare, 
the  Sannson  Agonistes  sh^re  with  Paradise  Lost  the  glory  of 
being  supremely  great  literature.  Milton  is  the  fourth  great 
epic  writer  in  the  order  of  time. 

Criticism  by  Mark  Pattison. — "  Poetry  has  been  defined  as 
'  the  suggestion  of  noble  grounds  for  the  noble  emotions/  and, 
in  this  respect,  none  of  the  world-epics  —  there  are  at  most  five 
such  in  existence  —  can  compete  with  Paradise  Lost.  The 
melancholy  pathos  of  Lucretius,  indeed,  pierces  the  heart  with  a 
two-edged  sword  more  keen  than  Milton's,  but  the  compass  of 
Lucretius'  horizon  is  much  less,  being  limited  to  this  earth  and 
its  inhabitants.  The  horizon  of  Paradise  Lost  is  not  narrower 
than  all  space,  its  chronology  not  shorter  than  eternity ;  the  globe 
of  our  earth  a  mere  spot  in  the  physical  universe,  and  that  uni- 
verse itself,  a  drop  suspended  in  the  infinite  empyrean.  His  as- 
pirations had  thus  reached  '  one  of  the  highest  arcs  that  human 
contemplation  circling  upwards  can  make  from  the  glassy  sea 
whereon  she  stands/  (Doctr.  and  Disc.).  Like  his  contem- 
porary, Pascal,  his  mind  had  beaten  her  wings  against  the  prison 
walls  of  human  thought. 

"  Milton's  diction  is  the  elaborated  outcome  of  all  the  best 
words  of  all  antecedent  poetry,  not  by  a  process  of  recollected 
reading  and  storage,  but  by  the  same  mental  habit  by  which  we 
learn  to  speak  our  mother-tongue.  Only,  in  the  case  of  the  poet, 
the  vocabulary  acquired  has  a  new  meaning  superadded  to  the 


MILTON 

words,  from  the  occasion  on  which  they  have  been  previously 
employed  by  others.  Words,  over  and  above  their  dictionary 
significance,  connote  all  the  feeling  which  has  gathered  round 
them  by  reason  of  their  employment  through  a  hundred  genera- 
tions of  song.  In  the  words  of  Mr.  Myers,  '  without  ceasing 
to  be  a  logical  step  in  the  argument,  a  phrase  becomes  a  centre 
of  emotional  force.  The  complex  associations  which  it  evokes 
modify  the  associations  evoked  by  other  words  in  the  same  pass- 
age, in  a  -way  distinct  from  logical  or  grammatical  conception.' 
The  poet  suggests  much  more  than  he  says,  or,  as.  Milton  him- 
self has  phrased  it,  *  more  is  meant  than  meets  the  ear.'  For 
the  purpose  of  poetry,  a  thought  is  the  representative  of  many 
feelings,  and  a  word  is  the  representative  of  many  thoughts. 
A  single  word  may  thus  set  in  motion  in  us  the  vibration  of  a 
feeling  first  consigned  to  letters  3,000  years  ago.  For  oratory 
words  should  be  winged,  that  they  may  do  their  work  of  per- 
suasion. For  poetry,  words  should  be  freighted  with  association 
of  feeling,  that  they  may  awaken  sympathy.  It  is  the  suggestive* 
power  of  words  that  the  poet  cares  for,  rather  than  their  current 
denotation.  How  laughable  are  the  attempts  of  the  commenta- 
tors to  interpret  a  line  in  Virgil  as  they  would  a  sentence  in 
Aristotle's  Physics!  Milton's  secret  lies  in  his  mastery  over  the 
rich  treasures  of  this  inherited  vocabulary.  He  wielded  it  as 
his  own,  as  a  second  mother-tongue,  the  native  and  habitual 
idiom  of  his  thought  and  feeling,  backed  by  a  massive  frame  of 
character,  and  '  a  power  which  is  got  within  me  to  a  passion.' 
(Areopagitica. ) 

"  When  Wordsworth  came  forward  at  the  end  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century  with  his  famous  reform  of  the  language  of 
English  poetry,  the  Miltonic  diction  was  the  current  coin  paid 
out  by  every  versifier.  Wordsworth  revolted  against  this  dialect 
as  unmeaning,  hollow,  gaudy,  and,  in  phraseology  altogether 
abandoned  it,  reverting  to  the  common  language  of  ordinary  life. 
It  was  necessary  to  do  this  in  order  to  recount  poetry  with  the 
sympathies  of  men,  and  make  it  again  a  true  utterance,  instead  of 
the  ingenious  exercise  in  putting  together  words  which  it  had 
become.  In  projecting  this  abandonment  of  the  received  tradi- 
tion, it  may  be  thought  that  Wordsworth  was  condemning  the 
Miltonic  system  of  expression  in  itself.  But  this  was  not  so. 
Milton's  language  had  become,  in  the  hands  of  the  imitators  of 


5o8  THE  EPIC 

the  eighteenth  century,  sound  without  sense,  a  husk  without 
the  kernel,  a  body  of  words  without  the  soul  of  poetry.  .Milton 
had  created  and  wielded  ft?17  instrument  which  was  beyond  the 
control  of  any  less  than  himself.  He  wrote  it  as  a  living-  lan- 
guage ;  the  poetasters  of  the  eighteenth  century  wrote  it  as  a 
dead  language,  as  boys  make  Latin  verses.  Their  poetry  is  to 
Paradise  Lost,  as  a  modern  Gothic  restoration  is  to  a  genuine 
Middle-Age  church.  It  was  against  the  feeble  race  of  imitators, 
and  not  against  the  master  himself,  that  the  protest  of  the  Lake 
poet  was  raised.  He  proposed  to  do  away  with  the  Miltonic. 
vocabulary  altogether,  not  because  it  was  in  itself  vicious,  but 
because  it  could  now  only  be  employed  at  second-hand.  One 
draw-back  there  was  attendant  upon  the  style  chosen  by  Milton, 
viz.,  that  it  narrowly  limited  the  circle  of  his  readers.  All  words 
are  addressed  to  those  who  understand  them.  The  Welsh  triads 
are  not  for  those  who  have  not  learnt  Welsh ;  an  English  poem 
is  only  for  those  who  understand  English.  But  of  understand- 
ing English  there  are  many  degrees;  it  requires  some  education 
to  understand  literary  style  at  all.  A  large  majority  of  the 
natives  of  any  country  possess,  and  use,  only  a  small  fraction  of 
their  mother-tongue.  These  people  may  be  left  out  of  the 
discussion.  Confining  ourselves  only  to  that  small  part  of  our 
millions  which  we  speak  of  as  the  educated  classes  —  that  is, 
those  whose  schooling  is  carried  on  beyond  fourteen  years  of  age 
—  it  will  be  found  that  only  a  small  fraction  of  the  men,  and  a 
still  smaller  fraction  of  the  women,  fully  apprehend  the  meaning 
of  words.  This  is  the  case  with  what  is  written  in  the  ordinary 
language  of  books.  When  we  pass  from  a  style  in  which  words 
have  only  their  simple  significance,  to  a  style  of  which  the  effect 
depends  on  the  suggestion  of  collateral  association,  we  leave 
behind  the  majority  even  of  these  few.  This  is  what  is  meant 
by  the  standing  charge  against  Milton  that  he  is  too  learned. 

'  The  style  of  Paradise  Lost  is  then  only  the  natural  expression 
of  a  soul  thus  exquisitely  nourished  upon  the  best  thoughts  and 
finest  words  of  all  ages.  It  is  the  language  of  one  who  lives 
in  the  companionship  of  the  great  and  the  wise  of  past  time. 
It  is  inevitable  that  when  such  a  one  speaks,  his  tones,  his  accent, 
the  melodies  of  his  rhythm,  the  inner  harmonies  of  his  linked 
thoughts,  the  grace  of  his  illusive  touch,  should  escape  the  com- 
mon ear.  To  follow  Milton  one  should  have  at  least  tasted  the 


MILTON 

same  training  through  which  he  put  himself.  '  7V  qnoijuc  d 
tinge  dco!  The  many  cannot  see  it,  and  they  complain  that  the 
poet  is  too  learned.  They  would  have  Milton  talk  like  Uunyan 
or  William  Cobbett,  whom  they  understand.  Milton  did  attempt 
the  demagogue  in  his  pamphlets,  only  with  the  result  of  blemish- 
ing his  fame  and  degrading  his  genius.  The  best  poetry  is  that 
which  calls  upon  us  to  rise  to  it,  not  that  which  writes  down 
to  us. 

'  There  is  an  element  of  decay  and  death  in  poems  which  we 
vainly  style  immortal.  Some  of  the  sources  of  Milton's  power 
are  already  in  process  of  drying  up.  I  do  not  speak  of  the 
ordinary  caducity  of  language,  in  virtue  of  which  every  effusion 
of  the  human  spirit  is  lodged  in  a  body  of  death.  Milton  suffers 
little  as  yet  from  this  cause.  There  are  few  lines  in  his  poems 
which  are  less  intelligible  now  than  they  were  at  the  time  they 
were  written.  This  is  partly  to  be  ascribed  to  his  limited  vocab- 
ulary, Milton,  in  his  verse,  using  not  more  than  eight  thousand 
words,  or  about  half  the  number  used  by  Shakespeare.  Nay, 
the  position  of  our  earlier  writers  has  been  improved  by  the 
mere  spread  of  the  English  language  over  a  wider  area.  Addi- 
son  apologized  for  Paradise  Lost  falling  short  of  the  JEncid, 
because  of  the  inferiority  of  the  language  in  which  it  was  written. 
"  So  divine  a  poem  in  English  is  like  a  stately  palace  built  of 
brick."  The  defects  of  English  for  purposes  of  rhythm  and 
harmony  are  as  great  now  as  they  ever  were,  but  the  space  that 
our  speech  fills  in  the  world  is  vastly  increased,  and  this  increase 
of  consideration  is  reflected  back  upon  our  older  writers.  But 
if,  as  a  treasury  of  poetic  speech,  Paradise  Lost  has  gained  by 
time,  it  has  lost  far  more  as  a  storehouse  of  divine  truth.  We 
at  this  day  are  better  able  than  ever  to  appreciate  its  force  of 
expression,  its  grace  of  phrase,  its  harmony  of  rhythmical  move- 
ment, but  it  is  losing  its  hold  over  our  imagination.  Strange  to 
say,  this  failure  of  vital  power  in  the  constitution  of  the  poem 
is  due  to  the  very  selection  of  subject  by  which  Milton  sought 
to  secure  perpetuity.  Not  content  with  being  the  poet  of  men, 
and  with  describing  human  passions  and  ordinary  events,  he 
aspired  to  present  the  destiny  of  the  whole  race  of  mankind, 
to  tell  the  story  of  creation,  and  to  reveal  the  councils  of  heaven 
and  hell.  And  he  would  raise  this  structure  upon  no  unstable 
base,  but  upon  the  sure  foundation  of  the  written  Word.  It 


5IO  THE  EPIC 

would  have  been  a  thing  incredible  to  Milton  that  the  hold  of 
the  Jewish  Scriptures  over  the  imagination  of  English  men 
and  women  could  ever  be  weakened.  This  process,  however, 
has  already  commenced.  The  demonology  of  the  poem  has 
already,  with  educated  readers,  passed"  from  the  region  of  fact 
into  that  of  fiction.  Not  so,  universally,  but  with  a  large  number 
of  readers,  the  angelology  can  be  no  more  than  what  the  critics 
call  machinery.  And  it  requires  a  violent  effort  from  any  of  our 
day  to  accommodate  our  conceptions  to  the  anthropomorphic 
theology  of  Paradise  Lost.  Were  the  sapping  process  to  con- 
tinue at  the  same  rate  for  two  more  centuries,  the  possibility 
of  epic  illusion  would  be  lost  to  the  whole  scheme  and  economy 
of  the  poem.  Milton  has  taken  a  scheme  of  life  for  life  itself. 
Had  he,  in  the  choice  of  subject,  remembered  the  principle  of 
the  Aristotelean  Poetic  (which  he  otherwise  highly  prized),  that 
men  in  action  are  the  poet's  proper  theme,  he  would  have  raised 
his  imaginative  fabric  on  a  more  permanent  foundation ;  upon 
the  appetities,  passions,  and  emotions  of  men,  their  vices  and 
virtues,  their  aims  and  ambitions,  which  are  a  far  more  constant 
quantity  than  any  theological  system.  This,  perhaps,  was  what 
Goethe  meant  when  he  pronounced  the  subject  of  Paradise  Lost 
to  be  abominable,  with  a  fair  outside,  but  rotten  inwardly/ '' 

Criticism  by  Lord  Macaulay. — "  The  only  poem  of  modern 
times  which  can  be  compared  with  the  Paradise  Lost  is  the  Divine 
Comedy.  The  subject  of  Milton,  in  some  points,  resembled  that 
of  Dante ;  but  he  has  treated  it  in  a  widely  different  manner. 
We  cannot,  we  think,  better  illustrate  our  opinion  respecting 
our  own  great  poet,  than  by  contrasting  him  with  the  father  of 
Tuscan  literature.  The  poetry  of  Milton  differs  from  that  of 
Dante  as  the  hieroglyphics  of  Egypt  differed  from  the  picture 
writing  of  Mexico.  The  images  which  Dante  employs  speak  /or 
themselves ;  they  stand  simply  for  what  they  are.  Those  of 
Milton  have  a  signification  which  is  often  discernible  only  to 
the  initiated.  Their  value  depends  less  on  what  they  directly 
represent  than  on  what  they  remotely  suggest.  However  strange, 
however  grotesque,  may  be  the  appearance  which  Dante  under- 
takes to  describe,  he  never  shrinks  from  describing  it.  He  gives 
us  the  shape,  the  color,  the  sound,  the  smell,  the  taste ;  he  counts 
the  numbers ;  he  measures  the  size.  His  similies  are  the  illustra- 


MILTON  r,j 

tions  of  a  traveler.  Unlike  those  of  other  poets,  and  especially 
of  Milton,  they  are  introduced  in  a  plain,  businesslike,  manner; 
not  for  the  sake  of  any  beauty  in  the  objects  from  which  they  are 
drawn ;  not  for  the  sake  of  any  ornament  which  they  may  impart 
to  the  poem;  but  simply  in  order  to  make  the  meaning  of  the 
writer  as  clear  to  the  reader  as  it  is  to  himself.  The  ruins  of  the 
precipice  which  led  from  the  sixth  to  the  seventh  circle  of  hell, 
were  like  those  of  the  rock  which  fell  into  the  Adige  on  the 
south  of  Trent.  The  cataract  of  Phlegethon  was  like  that  of 
Aqua  Cheta  at  the  monastery  of  St.  Benedict.  The  place  where 
the  heretics  were  confined  in  burning  tombs  resembled  the  vast 
cemetery  of  Aries. 

"  Poetry  which  relates  to  the  beings  of  another  world,  ought 
to  be  at  once  mysterious  and  picturesque,  indeed,  beyond  any 
that  ever  was  written.  Its  effect  approaches  to  that  produced 
by  the  pencil  or  the  chisel.  But  it  is  picturesque  to  the  exclusion 
of  all  mystery.  This  is  a  fault  on  the  right  side,  a  fault  insep- 
arable from  the  plan  of  Dante's  poem,  which,  as  we  have  already 
observed,  rendered  the  utmost  accuracy  of  description  necessary. 
Still,  it  is  a  fault.  The  supernatural  agents  excite  an  interest ; 
but  it  is  not  the  interest  which  is  proper  to  supernatural  agents. 
\Ye  feel  that  we  could  talk  to  the  ghosts  and  demons,  without 
any  emotion  of  unearthly  awe.  We  could,  like  Don  Juan,  ask 
them  to  supper,  and  eat  heartily  in  their  company.  Dante's 
angels  are  good  men  with  wings.  His  devils  are  spiteful,  ugly, 
executioners.  His  dead  men  are  merely  living  men  in  strange 
situations.  The  scene  which  passes  between  the  poet  and  Far- 
inata  is  justly  celebrated.  Still,  Farinata  in  the  burning  tomb 
h  exactly  what  Farinata  would  have  been  at  an  auto  da  ft. 
Xothing  can  be  more  touching  than  the  first  interview  of  Dante 
and  Beatrice.  Yet,  what  is  it  but  a  lovely  woman  chiding,  with 
sweet,  austere  composure,  the  lover  for  whose  affection  she  is 
grateful,  but  whose  vices  she  reprobates?  The  feelings  which 
give  the  passage  its  charm  would  suit  the  streets  of  Florence 
as  well  as  the  summit  of  the  Mount  of  Purgatory. 

"  To  return  for  a  moment  to  the  parallel  which  we  have  been 
attempting  to  draw  between  Milton  and  Dante,  we  would  add 
that  the  poetry  of  these  great  men  has  in  a  considerable  degree 
taken  its  character  from  their  moral  qualities.  They  are  not 
egotists.  They  rarely  obtrude  their  idiosyncrasies  on  their  read- 


THE  EPIC 

ers.  They  have  nothing  in  common  with  those  modern  beggars 
for  fame,  who  extort  a  pittance  from  the  compassion  of  the  in- 
experienced, by  exposing  the  nakedness  and  sores  of  their  minds. 
Yet  it  would  be  difficult  to  name  two  writers  whose  works  have 
been  more  completely,  though  undesignedly,  colored  by  their 
personal  feelings.  The  character  of  Milton  was  peculiarly  dis- 
tinguished by  loftiness  of  spirit;  that  of  Dante,  by  intensity  of 
feeling.  In  every  line  of  the  Divine  Comedy  we  discern  the 
asperity  which  is  produced  by  pride  struggling  with  misery. 
There  is  perhaps  no  work  in  the  world  so  deeply  and  uniformly 
sorrowful.  The  melancholy  of  Dante  was  no  fantastic  caprice. 
It  was  not,  as  far  as  at  this  distance  of  time  can  be  judged,  the 
effect  of  external  circumstances.  It  was  from  within.  Neither 
love  nor  glory,  neither  the  conflicts  of  earth  nor  the  hope  of 
heaven,  could  dispel  it.  It  turned  every  consolation  and  every 
pleasure  into  its  own  nature.  It  resembled  that  noxious  Sar- 
dinian soil  of  which  the  intense  bitterness  is  said  to  have  been 
perceptible  even  in  its  honey.  His  mind  was,  in  the  noble  lan- 
guage of  the  Hebrew  poet,  '  a  land  of  darkness,  as  darkness  it- 
self, and  where  the  light  was  as  darkness/  The  gloom  of  his 
character  discolors  all  the  passions  of  men,  and  all  the  face  of 
nature,  and  tinges  with  its  own  livid  hue  the  flowers  of  Paradise 
and  the  glories  of  the  eternal  throne.  All  the  portraits  of  him 
are  singularly  characteristic.  No  person  can  look  on  the  fea- 
tures, noble  even  to  ruggedness,  the  dark  furrows  of  the  cheek, 
the  haggard  and  woeful  stare  of  the  eye,  the  sullen  and  con- 
temptuous curve  of  the  lip,  and  doubt  that  they  belong  to  a  man 
too  proud  and  too  sensitive  to  be  happy.  Milton  was,  like  Dante, 
a  statesman  and  a  lover;  and,  like  Dante,  he  had  been  unfor- 
tunate in  ambition  and  in  love.  He  had  survived  his  health  and 
his  sight,  the  comforts  of  his  home  and  the  prosperity  of  his 
party.  Of  the  great  men  by  whom  he  had  been  distinguished  at 
his  entrance  into  life,  some  had  been  taken  away  from  the  evil 
to  come;  some  had  carried  into  foreign  climates  their  uncon- 
querable hatred  of  oppression ;  some  were  pining  in  dungeons ; 
and  some  had  poured  forth  their  blood  on  scaffolds.  Venal  and 
licentious  scribblers,  with  just  sufficient  talent  to  clothe  the 
thoughts  of  a  pander  in  the  style  of  a  bellman,  were  now  the 
favorite  writers  of  the  sovereign  and  of  the  public.  It  was  a 
loathsome  herd,  which  could  be  compared  to  nothing  so  filthy 


MINOR  EPICS 

as  to  the  rabble  of  '  Comus,'  grotesque  monsters,  half  bestial, 
half  human,  dropping  with  wine,  bloated  with  gluttony,  and 
reeling  in  obscene  dances.  Amidst  these,  that  fair  Muse  was 
placed,  like  the  chaste  lady  of -the  lofty,  spotless,  and  serene, 
to  be  chattered  at,  and  pointed  at,  and  grinned  at,  by  the  whole 
rout  of  satyrs  and  goblins.  If  ever  despondency  and  asperity 
could  be  excused  in  any  man,  they  might  have  been  excused  in 
Milton.  But  the  strength  of  his  mind  overcame  every  calamity. 
Neither  blindness,  nor  gout,  nor  age,  nor  penury,  nor  domestic 
afflictions,  nor  political  disappointments,  nor  abuse,  nor  proscrip- 
tion, nor  neglect,  had  power  to  disturb  his  sedate  and  majestic 
patience.  His  spirits  do  not  seem  to  have  been  high,  but  they 
were  singularly  equable.  His  temper  was  serious,  perhaps  stern ; 
but  it  was  a  temper  which  no  sufferings  could  render  sullen  or 
fretful.  Such  as  it  was  when,  on  the  eve  of  great  events,  he 
returned  from  his  travels,  in  the  prime  of  health  and  manly 
beauty,  loaded  with  literary  distinctions,  and  glowing  with  patri- 
otic hopes;  such  it  continued  to  be  when,  after  having  experi- 
enced every  calamity  which  is  incident  to  our  nature,  old,  poor, 
sightless,  and  disgraced,  he  retired  to  his  hovel  to  die." 

Minor  Epics. — The  minor  epics  of  the  world  are  the  Ra- 
mayana,  Maha-bharata,  Kalevala,  Beowulf,  Nibelungen  Lied, 
Song  of  Roland,  Shah-namah,  Poem  of  the  Cid,  Orlando 
Furioso,  Lusiad,  Jerusalem  Delivered,  Messiad.  The  condi- 
tions for  the  production  of  the  primitive  epic  exist  but  once 
in  a  nation's  growth ;  and  most  nations  have  been  fortunate 
enough  to  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity.  Constructed 
upon  the  noblest  principles  of  art  and  pervaded  by  the  eternal 
calm  of  the  immortals,  the  above-mentioned  epics  are  of  un- 
dying interest  to  the  nations  whose  gifted  sons  produce  them. 
But  it  was  given  to  their  more  exalted  brethren  —  Homer, 
Virgil,  Dante,  and  Milton  —  to  break  down  national  barriers 
and  appeal  with  almost  equal  interest  to  every  nation  and  to 
every  age;  and  for  this  reason  the  latter  were  selected  here 
as  the  best  representatives  of  the  epic. 


CHAPTER  LI 
THE  LYRIC 

Its  Place. —  The  lyric  occupies  the  third,  or  lowest  place", 
among  standard  verse-forms.  It  is  preceded  by  the  drama 
and  the  epic,  and  like  the  letter  in  prose,  is  lowest  on  the  scale, 
so  far  as  value  an'd  importance  are  concerned. 

Origin  of  the  Term.— The  term,  lyric,  derived  from  the 
word,  lyra,  was  first  applied  to  a  musical  instrument  of  the 
harp  family.  At  a  later  date  it  was  applied  to  the  songs 
adapted  to  the  harp  or  lyre,  and  in  this  connection  involved 
both  music  and  poetry.  For  the  lines  thus  written  were  com- 
posed for  the  sole  purpose  of  being  set  to  music.  Hence,  lyric 
poetry  among  the  ancients  was  known  as  songs  or  psalms. 

Present  Scope. — At  the  present  time  the  lyric  has  a  wider 
significance,  meaning  not  only  poetry  set  to  music,  but  all 
miscellaneous  work  outside  the  domain  of  the  epic  and  the 
drama. 

Exceptions. — An  exception  is  made  of  what  is  called  didac- 
tic poetry.  ^*£This  class  lies  outside  the  domain  of  epic  and 
drama,  yet  it  cannot  be  classified  as  lyric.  Its  length  and 
sustained  thought,  together  with  an  almost  complete  absence  of 
emotion,  give  it  anything  but  a  lyric  character.  The  fact  is 
that  didactic  poetry  represents  an  abnormal  creation;  it  is  an 
attempt  to  combine  philosophy  or  science  with  the  imaginative 
process  of  poetry.  The  result  is  neither  good  philosophy  nor 
genuine  poetry.  The  didactic  poem,  as  Blair  remarks,  dif- 


THE  LYRIC 

fers  only  in  form,  not  in  scope  or  substance,  from  a  philosoph- 
ical, a  moral  or  a  critical  treatise  in  prose.  Thus,  so  far  as 
it  can  be  classified  at  all,  it  belongs  to  the  department  of  phil- 
osophy rather  than  poetry.  A  second  exception  is  sometimes 
made  of  the  satire,  and  pastoral  poetry.  But  these  often  take 
a  lyric  form.  Otherwise,  they  are  heroic  in  character,  and 
belong  to  epic  literature. 

Marks  of  the  Lyric.—  Briefness.—  The  lyric  is  recognized 
in  four  ways.  First,  by  its  briefness.  It  is  invariably  a  brief 
production.  This  is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  author  uses  the 
lyric  as  a  vehicle  for  intense  passion  or  a  passing  mood.  In- 
tense passion  is  by  nature  of  short  duration,  and  in  art  must 
have  the  briefest  expression.  It  is,  therefore,  as  Tennyson  de- 
scribes it,  "  a  short  swallow-flight  of  song/' 

Emotional  Value. —  The  lyric  is  also  recognized  on  account 
of  its  emotional  value.  It  is  always  intended  to  arouse  the 
feelings  of  the  reader  or  hearer.  Its  success  depends  upon 
the  amount  of  passion  thus  aroused.  And  because  of  this 
appeal  to  the  emotions,  the  lyric  is  made  the  most  musical  of 
all  literary  work.  Among  primitive  or  savage  races,  it  acted 
as  a  spell  or  incantation,  so  strong  was  its  influence  over  the 
emotions.  Among  the  most  highly  civilized  nations,  the  lyric 
known  as  the  national  anthem  has  an  almost  equal  influence. 

Subjectivity. — The  lyric  is  recognized  on  account  of  its  sub- 
jectivity. It  expresses  the  feeling  of  the  writer;  it  represents 
his  own  mood  or  passion,  not  the  mood  or  passfon  of  another. 
Hence,  it  is  quite  different  from  the  drama  wherein  the  author 
describes  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  characters  which  he  has 
created;  also,  from  the  epic  wherein  external  events  and  cir- 
cumstances are  described.  Both  the  drama  and  the  epic  are 
objective,  whereas  the  lyric  is  a  self- revelation  on  the  part  of 
the  author. 

Flexibility  of  Form. —  The  lyric  is  known  by  its  flexibility 


516  THE  LYRIC 

of  form.  The  least  art  is  required  in  the  plan  of  a  lyric.  It 
is  adjusted  so  as  to  express  every  feeling,  mood  and  fancy. 
Like  the  letter,  it  may  be  made  highly  artificial;  but  in  such 
cases  the  charm  is  lessened  or  destroyed.  Its  normal  condi- 
tion is  one  of  largest  freedom.  Thus,  the  psalm  in  Hebrew 
literature  and  the  ballad  in  the  folk-lore  of  all  nations  are 
unrivalled  representatives  of  the  lyric. 

Meter  and  Style  in  the  Lyric. —  Lyric  poetry  is  nowhere 
more  varied  than  in  its  metre,  and  it  offers  an  interesting  field 
for  the  study  of  this  element  of  poetic  form.  It  uses  feet  of 
all  kinds  and  lines  of  every  length.  No  particular  foot  is  es- 
pecially characteristic,  the  kind  of  foot  being  determined  by 
the  spirit  of  the  poem.  The  most  common  lines  are  the 
tetrameter  and  pentameter.  The  use  of  end  rhyme  is  almost 
universal  in  modern  lyrics.  There  is  also  an  abundance  of 
alliteration  and  assonance ;  and  likewise  a  studied  effort  to  give 
vowel  sounds  the  preference.  These  elements  determine  in 
large  measure  the  quality  and  effect  of  the  music.  The  very 
diversity  of  lyric  meter  makes  specific  directions  impossible. 

Style. —  In  style  the  lyric  is  subject  to  the  same  laws  as 
other  literature;  but  the  various  qualities  are  nowhere  mani- 
fested more  fully  and  vividly.  Intellectual  qualities  of  style 
are  less  strongly  marked,  for  the  lyric  is  not  predominantly  in- 
tellectual in  substance.  As  a  rule,  however,  it  is  more  subtle 
and  abstruse  than  the  epic;  because  subjective  moods  or  states 
often  so  highly  complex  are  less  easy  to  express  than  simple 
epic  narrative.  Emotional  qualities  of  style  are  expected  to  be 
present  in  the  fullest  measure.  Wit,  humor,  pathos,  sublim- 
ity, beauty,  melody,  are  all  present.  The  lyric  covers  the 
whole  range  of  feeling.  The  emotion  that  is  universal  and 
thoroughly  human  prevails.  Hence,  grief,  devotion,  love,  pa- 
triotism, hope,  are  the  constant  theme  and  determine  the  style 
of  the  lyric.  •  i  •  •  , 


THE  LYRIC 

Suggestiveness.—  One  characteristic  of  the  lyric  style  is  its 
suggest! veness.  The  lyric  is  the  most  highly  suggestive  form 
of  literature,  owing  to  the  narrow  limits  within  which  the 
artist  must  work.  This  suggest iveness  applies  both  to  thought 
development  and  to  illustration  or  picture  work.  The  artist 
has  not  room  to  give  every  thought  or  every  picture  in  detail. 
Often  the  slightest  hint  must  serve  where  a  paragraph  of 
amplification  would  be  given  in  prose,  and  would  be  required 
to  express  the  thought  in  fuH.  Hence,  the  condensed  or  con- 
cise style  of  the  lyric.  The  intellect  and  imagination  of  the 
reader  are  thus  kept  active.  This  is  particularly  true  of  the 
lyric  produced  in  a  highly  civilized  state  of  society.  For  ex- 
ample, Pindar,  Horace,  Tennyson. 

In  Relation  to  Epic  and  Drama. —  As  a  work  of  art,  the 
lyric  is  inferior  to  the  epic  or  the  drama.  It  requires  neither 
an  elaborate  plan  nor  character  creation.  Like  the  letter  in 
prose,  the  lyric  is  ubiquitous;  it  enters  into  the  composition  of 
both  drama  and  epic.  These  higher  verse  forms  originated 
in  the  lyric,  and  both  retain  lyric  elements.  The  drama  grew 
out  of  the  hymn ;  the  epic  came  from  the  hymn  and  the  ballad. 
At  the  present  time  the  lyric  retains  a  three-fold  relation  to 
the  drama  —  first,  in  the  songs  sung  by  the  various  characters 
in  the  progress  of  dramatic  action;  second,  in  the  orchestral 
music  or  interludes  between  the  acts ;  third,  in  the  prelude  and 
epilogue  of  the  drama.  For  example,  the  lyrics  scattered 
through  the  plays  of  Shakespeare  would  form  a  small  volume. 
And  they  are  still  more  numerous  in  the  Greek  drama,  owing 
to  the  important  part  taken  by  the  chorus. 

In  the  Epic. —  The  lyric  is  frequently  employed  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  epic.  Both  ancient  and  modern  epics  employ 
material  drawn  from  the  supernatural  world.  Epic  heroes  are 
invariably  associated  with  angels  or  deities.  Hence,  hvmns. 


THE  LYRIC 

prayers,  invocations,  are  woven  into  the  story.  For  example, 
the  prayers  of  yEneas  on  his  voyage  to  Italy;  the  prayers  of 
our  first  parents  in  Paradise  Lost;  the  invocations  of  Dante 
in  passing  through  purgatory,  hell,  heaven. 

In  Relation  to  Prose. —  The  lyric  finds  its  way  into  almost 
every  department  of  prose,  especially  the  letter,  essay,  oratory, 
and  fiction.  It  is  there  in  the  form  of  quotation,  and  is  often 
demanded  by  the  highly  emotional  character  of  the  work. 

Classification. —  Lyrics  are  classified,  first  of  all,  on  the 
basis  of  form;  so  that  we  have,  for  example,  the  song,  the 
sonnet,  the  ode,  and  the  quatrain.  Secondly,  they  are  class- 
ified according  to  the  emotion  which  they  excite.  These  emo- 
tions may  be  religious,  patriotic,  amorous,  humorous;  hence, 
the  hymn  or  dirge,  the  national  anthem,  the  love-song,  the 
ballad,  lampoon.  As  the  prevailing  mood  is  identified  with 
the  subject-matter,  this  last  division  is  really  based  upon  the 
themes  treated,  such  as  God,  country,  man,  art,  nature. 

The  Sacred  Lyric.—  As  the  title  indicates,  it  deals  with  God 
and  the  supernatural  world.  It  is  inspired  by  religion.  It 
is  the  oldest  lyric  in  literature;  for  besides  such  ancient  pro- 
ductions as  the  Indian  and  Vedic  Hymns,  this  lyric  was  sung 
by  Moses  and  Miriam  after  the  passage  of  the  Red  Sea.  The 
Book  of  Psalms  is  the  best  known  collection  of  sacred  lyrics 
in  the  Hebrew  literature;  although  throughout  the  books  of 
the  Old  Testament  a  number  of  fine  lyrics  are  scattered,  as, 
for  example,  the  odes  of  David  and  Hannah  in  the  books  of 
Samuel,  celebrating  the  mercy  and  goodness  of  the  Lord. 

Causes  of  Lyric  Growth. —  On  account  of  their  national  iso- 
lation the  Hebrews  developed  a  subjective  quality  in  their 
character;  they  brooded,  meditated  upon  themselves  and  their 


THE  LYRIC 

Creator,  and  their  many  sacred  lyrics  are  the  literary  result 
of  such  meditation.  To  this  cause  we  may  add  the  rich  and 
varied  natural  scenery  of  Palestine.  All  the  charm  and  va- 
riety of  Oriental  tropic  scenery  are  present ;  so  that  no  country 
furnishes  better  material  for  imaginative  work.  As  a  con- 
sequence, we  have  the  grand  imagery  of  the  Hebrew  Psalms. 

The  Sacred  Lyric  in  the  Christian  Era. —  The  hymns  of 
Christians  in  all  countries  and  ages  are  classified  as  sacred 
lyrics  which  have  about  the  same  significance  as  the  psalms 
under  the  old  dispensation.  There  are  several  references  to 
hymns  in  the  New  Testament,  as  for  example,  after  the  insti- 
tution of  the  Lord's  Supper,  our  Lord  and  His  Apostles  sung 
a  hymn ;  the  words  of  St.  Matthew  are,  "  And  when  they  had 
sung  a  hymn  they  went  out  into  the  Mount  of  Olives."  So 
also  when  St.  Paul  and  Silas  were  thrown  into  prison,  they 
had  a  song-service  in  the  jail  at  which  their  fellow  prisoners 
attended.  It  is  clear  from  St.  Paul's  letters  that  hymns  and 
singing  were  a  part  of  the  divine  service  in  the  oldest  Chris- 
tian churches,  notably  in  the  Church  of  Corinth.  Pliny  wrote 
to  Trajan  that  on  appointed  days  the  Christians  assembled  and 
sang  hymns  to  Christ.  Tertullian  writes  that  after  the  Love- 
feast  (Agapa)  each  worshipper  was  invited  to  come  forward 
and  sing  a  hymn  in  God's  praise. 

Greek  and  Roman  Missals. — The  mass-book,  or  missal,  em- 
ployed in  all  branches  of  the  Catholic  Church  is,  for  the  most 
part,  a  collection  of  sacred  lyrics.  From  a  literary  view-point, 
the  missal  is  an  attempt  to  regulate  the  song-service  accom- 
panying the  Eucharistic  sacrifice;  hence,  from  the  hitroibo  or 
opening  hymn,  to  the  last  oration  or  prayer,  we  find  such 
lyric  pieces  as  the  Gloria,  Kyrie,  Offertory,  Preface,  Agnus 
Dei,  prayers  cmd  sequences.  The  meter  and  form  of  the  lyric 
are  preserved  in  many  of  the  sequences.  For  example,  the 


£20  THE  LYRIC 

Dies  Irce  and  Lauda  Sion.  Besides  the  sacred  lyrics  incorpo- 
rated into  the  missal,  there  were  special  hymns  for  important 
feasts,  processional  hymns  in  which  the  Greek  and  Latin 
Churches  were  equally  productive.  The  Te  Deum  may  be 
taken  as  a  fair  illustration. 

Breviaries. —  The  breviary,  like  the  missal,  is  lyric  in  char- 
acter. The  majority  of  the  hymns  are  taken  from  the  Book 
of  Psalms.  In  connection  with  these  there  are  a  number 
from  Christian  sources.  The  addition  of  hymns  from  Chris- 
tian writers  can  be  traced  as  far  back  as  the  ninth  century. 
The  breviary  is  an  outgrowth  of  monastic  life,  as  the  com- 
pilation of  the  hymns  clearly  indicates.  Before  the  Council 
of  Trent,  each  monastery,  diocese  and  large  city  had  its  own 
lyric  collection ;  now  only  three  kinds  of  breviaries  are  per- 
mitted —  the  Mozarabic,  Ambrosian,  and  Roman ;  the  latter 
being  the  official  breviary  of  the  Catholic  clergy.  An  admir- 
able translation  of  the  Roman  breviary  was  made  into  English 
by  the  late  Marquis  of  Bute. 

Christian  Hymn  Books.— The  third  and  most  important 
source  of  the  sacred  ode  is  the  Christian  hymn-book.  The 
Therapeutse  or  Essene  Jews  were  the  first  to  use  hymn-books ; 
and  Eusebius,  the  historian,  declares  that  the  early  Christians 
borrowed  the  hymn-book  from  them.  The  hymn-book  was 
first  used  in  the  Church  of  Antioch,  107  A.  D.  Ignatius 
counsels  congregational  singing  in  his  letter  to  the  Christians 
of  Antioch :  "  Let  the  brethren  form  themselves  into  a  choir 
and  sing  praise  to  the  Father  in  Christ  Jesus."  From  Antioch, 
congregational  singing  spread  throughout  the  eastern  churches. 
In  the  Greek  Church  hymn-books  were  called  tropologia;  a 
few  of  these  date  back  as  far  as  the  fifth  century,  and  they 
are  preserved  in  manuscript  form  in  the  libraries  of  Moscow 
and  Rome.  Famous  compilers  of  the  tropologia  were  Ana- 


THE  LYRIC  52 1 

tolius,  Patriarch  of  Constantinople;  St.  John  Chrysnstmn; 
Saints  Cosmas  and  Saba.  The  tropologia  contain  hymns  from 
almost  every  saint  on  the  Greek  calendar  down  to  the  seventh 
century.  The  writing  of  hymns  seemed  to  be  one  of  the 
requisites  of  canonization.  In  the  Latin  Church  the  use  of 
hymn-books  began  with  Saint  Hilary  and  Saint  Ambrose. 
The  earliest  reference  that  we  have  to  a  hymn-book  in  the 
Latin  Church  is  found  in  Saint  Jerome's  Commentary  on 
Galatians;  in  the  preface  Jerome  refers  to  a  book  of  hymns 
written  by  Saint  Hilary  and  in  use  in  the  Diocese  of  Poitiers 
in  356.  Saint  Ambrose  introduced  congregational  singing 
into  the  church  at  Milan.  Saint  Augustine  refers  to  this  as 
follows :  "  Then  it  was  first  appointed  that,  after  the  manner  ' 
of  the  Eastern  Church,  hymns  and  songs  be  sung,  lest  the 
people  grow  weary."  Ambrosian  music  and  the  Ambrosian 
hymn-book  were  in  vogue  down  to  the  time  of  Gregory  the 
Great,  when  the  Gregorian  service  came  into  use.  After  the 
downfall  of  the  Roman  Empire  all  the  nations  of  Western 
Europe  had  hymn-books,  each  in  its  own  language.  The 
chief  writers  in  the  Western  Church  were  Venerable  Bede, 
(who  wrote  eleven  hymns)  and  Alfred  the  Great,  for  the 
Saxon  Church ;  Charlemagne  and  St.  Bernard  in  France ;  Jcsn 
DuJcis  Memoria  is  a  celebrated  hymn  by  St.  Bernard.  In 
Italy,  Thomas  De  Celano,  who  wrote  the  Dies  Ircc;  he  was  the 
companion  and  biographer  of  Saint  Francis  of  Assissi.  Jaco- 
bus De  Benedictis,  a  Franciscan,  who  wrote  the  Stabat  Ma- 
ter. In  Germany,  Peter  the  Venerable,  Abbot  of  Cluny,  who 
wrote  the  celebrated  hymn,  "Jerusalem  the  Golden."  And 
Hartmann,  who  compiled  the  German  hymn-book  in  the  four- 
teenth century.  Martin  Luther  deserves  special  mention;  he 
re-established  congregational  singing,  which  had  fallen  into 
disuse;  he  composed  a  German  hymn-book,  still  in  use  in 
the  Lutheran  Church.  His  most  famous  hymn  is  a  para- 


522 


THE  LYRIC 


phrase  of  the  46th  psalm :  Our  Lord,  a  tower  of  strength  — 
"  Ein  feste  berg  ist  unscr  Gott!' 

English  Hymns.—  The  first  English  hymn-book  in  the  na- 
tive tongue  was  published  by  order  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  6th 
of  May,  1545.  It  was  called  the  "King's  Primer,"  and  by 
royal  mandate  was  used  throughout  the  kingdom.  It  was 
modeled  on  the  Breviary  and  it  contained  English  translations 
of  the  best  known  Ambrosian  and  other  early  hymns.  The 
English  hymn-book  changed  with  each  succeeding  reign. 
Under  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  King's  Primer  was  thrown  out 
as  ungodly,  and  a  Geneva  hymn-book,  tinctured  with  Calvin- 
ism, was  substituted.  It  was  a  strange  combination  of  Luth- 
eran, Catholic  and  Biblical  hymns,  with  considerable  additions 
from  the  original  work  of  William  Keith,  an  exiled  Scotchman 
at  Geneva. 

Books  of  Common  Prayer. —  From  the  middle  of  the  six- 
teenth century  to  the  present  time,  the  English  Church  has  em- 
ployed Books  of  Common  Prayer.  These  Books  were  author- 
ized by  law;  they  were  modified  from  time  to  time  by  the 
reigning  sovereigns,  notably  by  Edward  the  Sixth  and  Queen 
Elizabeth.  The  Book  of  Common  Prayer  is  one  of  the  finest 
products  in  English  literature,  and  like  King  James'  version 
of  the  Bible,  should  be  read  for  its  literary  value.  This  Book 
contains  all  the  lyric  pieces  in  the  Mass,  besides  a  choice  selec- 
tion from  the  Book  of  Psalms  and  early  Christian  hymns. 

Notable  Compilations. —  Besides  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer,  five  hymn-books  have  been  compiled,  and  used  from 
time  to  time  in  English  church  service.  First,  the  Puritan 
Hymn-book  compiled  by  George  Wither,  still  used  in  some 
of  the  non-conformist  churches.  Second,  the  hymn-book  writ- 
ten by  John  Wesley  who  imitated  Luther  in  providing  original 


THE  LYRIC 

hymns  for  the  Methodist  Church.  Tjtfra,  Bishop  Heber's. 
The  hymns  of  Heber  are  found  hy^\'try  Protestant  hymn- 
book.  The  Church  of  England  ejrfployed  his  collections  at  the 
beginning  of  the  seventeenth  Century.  His  hymns  are  still 
popular  with  all  classes  of  Protestants.  Fourth,  John  Keble's. 
His  collection  provides  a  hymn  for  every  Sunday  and  feast 
day ;  it  is  known  as  the  "  Christian  Year."  It  is  all  original 
work.  Cardinal  Newman  wrote  as  follows  concerning  the 
Christian  Year :  '  The  Christian  Year  made  its  appearance 
in  1827.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  praise  a  book  which 
has  already  become  one  of  the  classics  of  the  language.  When 
the  general  tone  of  religious  literature  was  nerveless  and 
impotent,  Keble  struck  an  original  note  and  woke  up  in  the 
hearts  of  thousands  a  new  music,  the  effect  of  his  lyrics  was 
so  deep,  so  pure,  so  beautiful."  Fifth,  Frederick  William 
Faber's.  Faber  is  best  known  to  Catholic  England.  In  1836 
Faber  took  the  Newdigate  prize  at  Oxford  for  a  poem  on  the 
Knights  of  St.  John.  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge  were  his 
intimate  friends.  Wordsworth  said  that  Faber  might  easily 
become  the  first  poet  of  his  time,  if  he  gave  his  whple  attention 
to  poetry.  His  hymns  forming  a  considerable  volume,  are  used 
by  Catholics  and  Protestants  alike.  The  present  Catholic 
hymn-book  owes-  a  large  debt  to  Faber.  He  was  the  most 
fervent  and  zealous  convert  of  the  Oxford  movement. 

Other  Contributions  to  the  English  Sacred  Lyric. —  The 
chief  classic  writers  have  contributed  hymns  to  sacred  litera- 
ture. Among  these  John  Milton  ranks  first.  There  are  three 
famous  hymns  written  by  Milton  :  the  Nativity,  the  Passion. 
Circumcision.  The  ode  on  the  Nativity,  constructed  on  the 
model  of  the  Pindaric  odes,  is  very  elaborate,  and  by  all 
critics  regarded  as  one  of  our  very  best  lyrics.  Milton  trans- 
lated into  verse  many  fine  selections  from  the  Hebrew  psalms: 
among  them  the  psalm,  "  The  Lord  is  My  Shepherd."  is 


524  THE  LYRIC 

regarded  as  the  best.  John  Dryden  gave  some  attention  to 
hymnology.  The  English  translation  of  the  Veni  Creator 
now  in  use,  is  from  his  pen.  Dryden's  ode  on  Sacred  Music 
(in  honor  of  Saint  Cecelia)  is  accorded  the  first  place  in  our 
literature.  Alexander  Pope  gave  less  attention  than  Dryden 
to  hymn-writing;  his  lyric  work  is  devoted  to  epitaph  and 
elegy.  His  ode  on  Saint  Cecilia  has  been  admired  for  its 
correctness  of  diction,  but  it  is  cold  and  labored.  His  best 
hymn  is  called  the  "  Universal  Prayer,"  opening  with  the  line, 
"  Father  of  all,  in  every  age."  It  was  written  to  correct  the 
impression  that  the  author  of  the  "  Essay  on  Man  "  was  a 
pantheist.  Addison  began  a  translation  of  the  psalms  in  1698, 
but  never  completed  it ;  and,  although  the  fragment  left  us  is 
,  highly  polished,  it  has  never  been  popular.  He  also  wrote 
o  -^  thirteen  original  hymns,  the  most  remarkable  of  which  is  "  The 
^Soul's  Sabbath."  Robert  Burns  left  one  lyric  among  his 
poems;  its  title  is,  "  To  Mary  in  Heaven."  ~~Wordsw6rtrrwrote 
on  a  similar  subject.  One  line  of  Wordsworth  has  immortal- 
ized his  hymn,  his  description  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  as  "  our 
tainted  Nature's  solitary  boast."  Lord  Byron  published  a 
small  volume  of  lyrics  in  1815,  dealing  with  religious  sub- 
jects. The  volume  was  called  Hebrew  Melodies ;  many  of  the 
themes  were  furnished  by  the  Old  Testament,  such  as  the 
Song  of  Saul,  Jeptha's  Daughter,  All  is  Vanity.  Modern 
hymn-books  have  t\vo  selections  from  Byron,  one  called  the  De- 
struction of  Sennacherib  — "  The  Assyrian  came  down  like  the 
wolf  on  the  fold."  The  other  lyric  is  a  paraphrase  of  the 
1 37th  psalm  — "  By  the  waters  of  Babylon  we  sat  down  and  we 
wept."  A  section  of  the  lyrics  left  by  Thomas  Moore  is  devot- 
ed to  hymns.  There  are  thirty-three  pieces  in  all,  some  of  them 
quite  as  musical  as  anything  he  has  written.  The  most  pop- 
ular one  is  the  hymn  beginning  with  the  line,  "  Sound  the 
loud  timbrel  o'er  Egypt's  dark  sea." 


THE  LYRIC 

Miscellaneous  Contributions. —  The  great  English  prose 
writers  of  the  nineteenth  century,  Newman,  Ruskin,  Arnold, 
Lowell,  have  each  contributed  to  the  department  of  the  lyric. 
A  volume  by  Newman,  styled  "  Occasional  Verses,"  is  devoted 
almost  exclusively  to  religious  subjects;  this  volume  contains 
the  hymn  so  universally  admired,  "  Lead,  Kindly  Light." 
Hymns  approaching  it  in  popularity  are  the  "  Holy  City  "  and 
the  "  Recessional."  Among  American  authors,  John  Greenleaf 
Whittier  holds  first  place  as  a  lyric  writer,  dealing  with  re- 
ligious themes.  Like  John  Wesley,  Whittier  belongs  to  the 
evangelical  school ;  his  lyrics  are  hymns  of  prayer  and  praise, 
and  he  rarely  descends  to  polemics.  The  "  Invocation  "  and 
the  "  Centennial  Hymn  "  may  be  taken  as  fair  examples  of 
his  work.  Many  of  his  hymns  are  prayers  for  the  abolition 
of  slavery;  and  he  became  a  strong  factor  in  the  Abolition 
movement.  The  modern  non-Catholic  hymn-books  contain  se- 
lections from  the  lyrics  of  Longfellow,  Tennyson,  Whittier, 
and  Kipling.  The  "Recessional"  and  the  "Holy  City," 
"  The  Psalm  of  Life  "  and  the  "  Salutation  to  the  New  Year," 
are  four  hymns  of  exceptional  merit ;  and  with  "  Lead,  Kindly 
Light,"  form  the  richest  contribution  which  the  iQth  century 
has  made  to  hymnology. ' 

The  National  Lyric. —  This  species  is  known  under  the  title 
of  the  national  song  or  anthem.  As  the  name  idicates,  it  is 
inspired  by  patriotic  feeling.  No  nation  is  so  poor  or  so  insig- 
nificant as  not  to  have  a  favorite  national  song  or  anthem. 
Englishmen  are  familiar  with  "  God  Save  the  King  " ;  Amer- 
icans, Frenchmen  and  Germans  respond  to  the  "  Star  Spangled 
Banner,"  the  "  Marseillaise"  and  the  "  Watch  on  the  Rhine." 
Similarly,  all  peoples  have  consecrated  some  lyrics  as  the  high- 
est expression  of  patriotic  feeling.  In  watching  the  effect  of 
such  anthems  upon  the  multitude,  one  may  easily  understand 
how  poetry,  even  in  its  primitive  crudeness.  acted  upon  the 


526  TI1E  LYRIC 

savage  like  a  spell  or  incantation.  The  effect  of  this  lyr:<*  i^ 
best  seen  when  the  nations  are  marching  to  battle  and  keepiro 
time  to  the  wild,  grand  music  of  war. 

The  Heroic  Lyric. —  The  sacred  lyric  deals  with  the  super- 
natural hero  and  the  supernatural  world.  The  heroic  lyric  is 
confined  to  the  human  hero  and  the  present  world  which  has 
been  a  theatre  for  the  display  of  his  exalted  character  and 
shining  virtues.  This  species  of  lyric,  like  the  epic,  is  inspired 
by  hero-worship.  The  oldest  lyric  of  this  class  referred  to 
in  Hebrew  literature,  begins  with  the  line :  "  Saul  slew  his 
thousands;  David,  his  tens  of  thousands/'  It  is  the  keynote 
of  all  the  ancient  literature  under  this  head.  In  modern  times, 
the  heroes  of  peace  are  added  to  those  of  war,  and  this  lyric 
has  gradually  widened  in  scope  so  as  to  include  all  orders  of 
brilliant  individual  achievement.  Each  nation  has  supplied 
a  number  of  lyric  poets  who  were  devoted  to  such  lyric  work. 
Each  nation  of  any  note  has  produced  poets  like  David,  Pindar, 
Horace,  Tennyson,  who  have  sung  about  national  heroes — • 
laureate  poets  who  have  immortalized  the  noble  living  and  the 
noble  dead. 

The  Plaintive  Lyric. —  The  plaintive  lyric  is  called  the  elegy. 
It  is  expressive  of  sorrow  —  the  sorrow  caused  by  death  and 
separation.  Sometimes,  it  expresses  the  gentler  emotions  un- 
connected with  death ;  but  its  usual  theme  is  the  bier,  the  pall, 
the  grave,  and  the  dark  cypress  that  guards  God's  acre.  As 
it  is  a  poem  of  a  temperate  character,  it  admits  no  boldness  of 
meter,  thought  or  language,  nor  any  sudden  or  violent  transi- 
tions of  emotion.  It  has  the  muffled,  subdued  movement  of 
the  dirge,  thus  sanctifying  but  not  concealing  the  grief  that 
must  have  way.  Perhaps  the  most  perfect  illustration  of  this 
lyric  is  Gray's  Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard.  Among 
ancient  classic  poems,  the  "  Tristia  "  of  Ovid  are  the  most 


THE  BALLAD  527 

,  Iterated  elegies.  Shelley's  lament  over  Keats,  Milton's 
•«J!;Lycidas  "  ancl  Tennyson's  "  In  Memoriam  "  are  well  known 
examples  in  English  literature.  Some  of  the  psalms  are 
splendid  examples  of  lamentation.  The  Lamentations  of  Jere- 
mias  and  of  the  captives  by  the  "  Waters  of  Babylon  "  are  the 
very  soul  of  sadness  clothed  in  lyric  form. 

The  Ballad. —  The  word  is  derived  from  the  old  French, 
bailer,  to  dance,  and  originally  meant  a  song  sung  to  the 
rhythmic  movement  of  a  dancing  chorus.  Later,  the  word 
was  applied  to  a  particular  form  of  old  French  lyrics.  In 
England,  the  ballad  was  the  common  name  given  to  simple 
tales  told  in  a  simple  verse.  It  signified  the  poetry  of  the  com- 
mon people;  so  that  Folk-song  and  Ballad  were  synonymous, 
as  they  are  so  considered  in  Germany.  The  ballad  is  noted  for 
.its  directness,  freshness  and  freedom  from  those  artificial  re- 
straints which  the  learning  of  the  schools  inflicts  upon  poetry. 
On  this  point  Stedman  observes :  "  Primitive  ballads  have  a 
straightforward  felicity;  many  of  them  a  conjuring  melody, 
as  befits  verse  and  music  born  together.  Their  gold  is  virgin, 
from  the  rock-strata,  and  none  the  better  for  refining  and 
burnishing.  No  language  is  richer  in  them  than  the  English." 
Gummere,  quoting  Stevenson,  describes  the  ballad  as  verse 
dealing  with  the  eternal  life  of  man  spent  under  sun  and  rain, 
and  in  rude  physical  effort.  Further,  he  calls  the  ballad. 
"  the  poetry  of  the  people,  poetry  which  once  came  from  the 
people  as  a  whole,  from  the  compact  body  as  yet  undivided  by 
lettered  or  unlettered  taste,  representing  the  sentiment  neither 
of  individuals  nor  of  a  class.  It  inclines  to  the  narrative,  the 
concrete  and  exterior,  and  it  has  no  mark  of  the  artist  or  his 
sentiment ;  it  must  be  the  outcome  and  expression  of  a  whole 
community,  and  this  community  must  be  homogeneous  — 
must  belong  to  a  time  when,  in  a  common  atmosphere  of 
ignorance,  so  far  as  book-lore  is  concerned,  one  habit  of 


$2$  THE  LYRIC 

thought  and  one  standard  of  action  animate  every  member 
from  prince  to  ploughboy.  When  learning  came  among  the 
folk,  it  drove  the  ballad  first  into  byways,  and  then  altogether 
out  of  living  literature." 

Content  of  the  Ballad. —  Simplicity  of  thought  and  speech 
and  ax  naturalness  peculiar  to  the  primitive  man  are  ear-marks 
of  the  ballad.  It  gives  us  a  sense  of  tradition  and  a  flavor  of 
spontaneity,  riches  of  the  emotions  and  of  direct  vision,  pov- 
erty of  intellect  and  reflection.  Its  poetic  diction  is  un- 
schooled, close  to  life. 

Meter  and  Imagery — The  meter  is  not  labored,  irregular, 
and  hardly  melodious  when  judged  by  the  strictest  canons; 
however,  it  shows  a  clear  and  certain  sense  of  general  harmony. 
Assonance  often  does  the  work  of  rhyme.  Figures  are  few 
and  recurrent,  always  unforced,  and  for  the  most  part  uncon- 
scious. The  language  of  primitive  or  simple  passion  is  itera- 
tion, not  figure;  so  that  ballads  poor  in  imagery  are  full  of 
iteration. 

Purpose. —  The  ballad,  like  other  species  of  the  lyric,  was 
made  for  singing,  and  to  some  extent  was  made  in  singing. 
The  melody  was  by  no  means  the  device  of  a  minstrel  to  enter- 
tain the  throng,  but  the  concerted  work  of  a  throng  to  entertain 
itself.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  from  the  dance  came  the 
fact  and  the  terms  of  meter  —  the  steps  and  windings  of  both 
are  inseparable.  The  dance  was  the  center  and  in  one  way 
the  origin  of  all  the  songs  of  the  people.  "  No  singing,  no 
dance;  and  conversely,  no  dance,  no  singing" — this,  as  Gum- 
mere  puts  it,  is  the  history  of  the  ballad  in  a  nutshell. 

Communal  Origin. —  The  question  has  often  been  discussed 
whether  the  community  or  the  individual  should  be  credited 


BALLAD 

with  the  authorship  of  the  ballad.  Writers  like  Mullenhoff  and 
Schlegel  declare  that  the  making  of  ballads  could  never  have 
been  a  communal  process;  because  all  poetry  rests  upon  a 
union  of  nature  and  art ;  it  has  a  purpose  and  plan,  and  there- 
fore belongs  to  an  artist.  On  the  other  hand,  such  authorities 
as  Grimm  assert  that  it  is  the  "  folk,"  not  the  individual, 
which  pours  its  own  flood  of  poetry  over  far-off  events,  thus 
giving  to  us  the  folk-lyric  or  ballad.  It  is  probably  the  most 
reasonable  solution  of  the  difficulty  to  say  that  both  the  indi- 
vidual and  the  community  were  factors ;  the  individual  origin- 
ating the  poem,  the  "  folk "  changing  and  amplifying  it, 
adding  stanzas  and  changing  lines  to  suit  the  communal  fancy. 
As  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  a  ballad  could  begin  to  be  without 
some  individual  conceiving  and  originating  it;  so,  in  like 
manner,  it  is  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  "  folk  "  adopted 
and  sung  it  without  many  alterations  and  variations;  perhaps, 
after  some  generations,  recasting  the  whole  piece. 

Amount  and  Use  of  Such  Literature. —  The  ballad  literature 
of  every  nation  is  voluminous.  Much  of  it  is  not  collected, 
notably  the  ballads  of  the  Celt,  the  Spaniard  and  the  Italian. 
Child  has  collected  the  ballads  of  Scotland  and  England, 
basing  his  work  on  the  previous  labors  of  Motherwell  and 
Scott.  Bugeaud  and  Champfleury  have  collected  the  ballads 
of  France,  and  those  of  Northern  Europe  have  been  edited 
and  criticised  by  Taloy,  Kretschmar  and  Grimm.  The  Gaelic 
League  promises  to  do  as  much  for  the  rich  folklore  of  Ireland. 
The  use  of  the  ballad  is  admitted  by  all  critics  in  the  con- 
struction of  primitive  epics.  It  is  easy  to  show  survivals  of  the 
ballad  in  the  poetry  of  Homer  and  in  all  the  older  epics. 
Moreover,  it  may  be  added  that  the  Greek  drama  sprang  from 
the  sacred  choruses  of  village  vintagers.  Ballads  are  the  joy 
of  the  peasant  class.  "  Let  me  make  the  people's  songs,  and 
I  care  not  who  makes  their  laws  "  -  thus  spoke  O'Connell. 


530  THE  LYRIC 

Ballads  reach  the  heart  of  the  people.  The  country  seems  to 
have  aided  in  their  making;  the  bird's  note  rings  in  them,  the 
tree  has  lent  her  whispers,  the  stream  its  murmur,  the  village 
bell  its  tinkling  tune.  Ballads  are  a  voice  from  secret  places, 
from  silent  peoples,  and  old  times  long  dead ;  and  as  such  they 
stir  us  in  a  strangely  intimate  fashion  to  which  artistic  verse 
can  never  attain. 

The  Sonnet. —  The  sonnet  forms  an  important  division  of 
the  lyric.  The  word,  sonnet,  is  a  diminutive  for  song,  and  sig- 
nifies a  short  poem.  As  used  in  literature,  the  sonnet  is  a 
lyric  of  fixed  form,  limited  to  fourteen  lines,  with  a  prescribed 
disposition  of  rhymes.  The  form  is  of  Italian  origin.  A 
sonnet,  according  to  the  Italian  model,  is  written  in  five-foot 
measure ;  though  the  lines  may  be  eight  feet  in  length. 

Divisions. —  The  sonnet  consists  of  two  divisions  or  group- 
ings. The  first  is  called  the  major  group  and  contains  eight 
lines  —  hence  the  term,  octave,  which  is  applied  to  it.  The 
second  or  minor  group,  contains  six  lines,  and  is  called  a  sex- 
tette. According  to  Petrarch,  this  divison  corresponds  to 
question  and  answer;  the  octave  presenting  some  problem  or 
question ;  the  sextette  furnishing  some  solution  or  reply.  But 
the  modern  sonnet  often  fails  to  meet  this  requirement.  In 
the  construction  of  the  sonnet  the  Italian  writers  observed 
certain  rules  which  still  prevail.  First,  the  sonnet  must  con- 
fine itself  to  one  leading  idea,  thought  or  feeling.  Second,  it 
must  be  so  developed  as  to  leave  in  the  reader's  mind  a  sense 
of  completeness ;  it  must  be  a  complete  composition  in  minia- 
ture. Third,  the  rhyme,  however  varied,  must  have  not  more 
than  three  'variations  in  the  sextette;  and  two  in  the  octave. 
Finally,  the  style  of  the  sonnet  must  be  free  from  any  vague- 
ness or  obscurity,  and  from  all  harsh-sounding  words  or  word 
combinations.  In  the  last  particular,  the  musical  speech  of 


THE  SONNET 

Italy  has  a  decided  superiority  over  the  English  tongue.  Ow- 
ing to  the  application  of  these  rules,  the  sonnet  is  the  most 
perfect  work  of  art  in  the  department  of  the  lyric. 

Origin  of  the  Sonnet. —  The  sonnet  made  its  first  appearance 
at  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  century,  and  in  Italy.  Like 
many  forms  of  Italian  poetry  it  originated  in  Provence.  At 
once  it  came  into  popular  favor.  And  the  Italian  writers 
famous  for  their  connection  with  the  revival  of  learning,  all 
wrote  sonnets.  Dante,  Petrarch  and  Michael  Angelo  are  rep- 
resentative authors  of  the  sonnet.  During  his  youth,  and  be- 
fore his  exile  from  Florence,  Dante  wrote  lyric  poetry  in  the 
ballad  and  sonnet  form.  Seventy-eight  genuine  sonnets  were 
collected  and  published  in  a  work  called  the  "  Lyrics  of 
Dante."  These  lyrics  were  translated  into  English  by  Fred- 
erick Pollock  in  1843. 

*  , 

Petrarch  an  Author. —  But  the  most  famous  Italian  author 
of  sonnets  is  Petrarch.  His  volume  written  on  the  life  and 
death  of  Laura  has  no  equal  in  sonnet  literature.  Shelley 
describing  these  lyrics  says,  "They  are  as  spells  which  unseal 
the  inmost  enchanted  fountains  of  delight."  Besides  the  cycle 
of  sonnets  dedicated  to  Laura,  there  are  a  number  dealing  with 
such  miscellaneous  subjects  as  virtue,  fame,  Divinity.  There 
are  various  English  translators  of  Petrarch ;  the  best  transla- 
tion of  the  sonnets  was  made  by  Reeve  in  1868. 

The  Sonnet  in  England. —  The  sonnet  was  brought  from 
Italy  to  England  where  it  appeared  in  the  form  of  translation. 
The  first  English  author  of  the  sonnet  was  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt, 
who  lived  during  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth.  Wyatt  was 
likewise  the  first  English  author  of  satires  in  classical  form. 
His  work  in  the  sonnet  began  by  translations  from  Petrarch. 
His  lyrics  are  preserved,  not  on  account  of  their  merit,  but 


532 


THE  LYRIC 


as  a  literary  landmark  —  the  beginning  of  Italian  influence 
upon  English  literature. 

English  Classic  Writers  of  the  Sonnet.—  The  first  of  these 
is  Shakespeare.  The  sonnets  of  Shakespeare  were  completed 
in  1598.  The  whole  collection,  156  in  all,  was  published  in 
1609,  or  13  years  before  the  first  folio  edition  of  the  plays. 
These  sonnets  are  divided  into  two  groups  —  one  group  deal- 
ing with  Shakespeare's  friendship  for  a  man  whose  name  is 
withheld.  This  group  contains  126  sonnets  which  are  con- 
nected like  the  lyrics  of  the  In  Memoriam.  The  second  group 
of  forty  sonnets  are  written  in  imitation  of  Petrarch's  Laura; 
they  idealize  some  unknown  woman  whose  name  is  also  kept 
secret.  The  sonnets  of  Shakespeare  are  often  obscure  and 
irregular  in  form.  In  some  measure  they  follow  the  Italian 
model,  but  like  the  drajnas,  aften  violate  the  rules  of  art. 
The  sonnets  of  Milton  come  next  in  the  order  of  time;  they 
are  not  so  numerous  as  those  of  Shakespeare,  but  in  tech- 
nique they  are  a  higher  grade  of  work.  Milton  wrote  in  both 
the  English  and  Italian  languages,  and  he  had  a  better  appre- 
ciation of  musical  values.  Three  of  his  sonnets  are  famous : 
the  Massacre  of  Piedmont;  the  Assault  on  the  City;  his  Dead 


'e,  With  Milton,  the  sonnet  disappeared  from  English 
poetry  for  100  years.  It  was  despised  by  Pope  and  Dry  den. 
It  reappeared  in  England  with  the  Romantic  movement.  Cole- 
rjdge,  Wordsworth  and  Shelley  employed  it.  Two  large  col- 
lections were  left  by  Wordsworth  —  the  Ecclesiastical  sonnets 
which  run  through  several  hundred,  and  give  the  history  of 
Christianity  in  miniature.  The  bigot  and  the  artist  are  equally 
evident  in  this  collection.  The  second  collection  is  dedicated 
to  the  River  Duddon,  and  a  moire  charming  collection  outside 
Keats  and  Shakespeare  cannot  be  found  in  our  literature, 
The  sonnets  of  Keats  are  compared  to  a  tropic  flower  garden. 
They  are  unrivaled  examples  of  sensuousness.  Other  authors 


Qj3J^**4 


'533 


who   deserve   mention   are   Tennyson,    Longfellow,    RossettL^ 
Richard  Wai^on  Gilder,  Maurice  ^pmtfs  Egan,  Aul^jy^f5e 
Vere.     Modern  magazines  and  periodicals  take  kindly  to  the 
sonnet;  and  perhaps  it  represents  a  sufficient   tax  ii|K>n  the 
modern  Muse  accustomed  to  only  short  swallow-flights  of  song. 


CHAPTER  LII 
THE  LYRIC  (CONTINUED) 
REPRESENTATIVE  AUTHORS 

Pindar. —  The  celebrated  lyric  poet  of  Bceotia  was  born  in 
522  B.  C,  and  died  at  the  age  of  eighty  years.  He  was  in 
the  prime  of  life  when  Xerxes  invaded  Greece  and  when  the 
battles  of  Thermopylae  and  Salamis  were  fought.  He  had 
among  his  patrons  Hiero  of  Syracuse,  Theron  of  Agrigentum ; 
Amyntas,  king  of  Macedonia;  also,  many  of  the  free  cities 
of  Greece.  He  was  honored  and  loved  by  the  Ionian  states  for 
himself  as  well  as  for  his  art.  The  Athenians  made  him  their 
public  guest.  The  only  class  of  poems  which  enable  us  to 
judge  of  Pindar's  general  style  are  his  Triumphal  Odes,  al- 
though he  wrote  hymns  and  dirges  and  almost  every  variety 
of  lyric.  He  is  regarded  as  the  father  of  lyric  poetry. 

Criticism  by  Charles  Anthon. — "  Pindar  begins  an  ode  full 
of  the  lofty  conception  which  he  has  formed  of  the  glorious 
destiny  of  the  victor;  and  he  seems,  as  it  were,  carried  away 
by  the  flood  of  images  which  his  conception  pours  forth.  He 
does  not  attempt  to  express  directly  the  general  idea,  but  follows 
the  train  of  thought  which  it  suggests  into  details,  though  with- 
out losing  sight  of  their  reference  to  the  main  subject.  There 
is  in  the  Pindaric  odes  an  extraordinary  variety  of  style  and 
expression.  In  respect  of  metre,  every  ode  of  Pindar  has  an 
individual  character,  no  two  odes  being  of  the  same  metrical 
structure.  A  severe  dignity  pervades  the  odes ;  the  mythical 
narrations  are  developed  with  great  fullness ;  the  ideas  are  lim- 
ited to  the  subject;  there  is  throughout  a  general  character  of 
calmness  and  elevation.  The  language  has  a  slight  Doric  tinge 

534 


SAPPHO  535 

which  adds  to  its  brilliancy  and  dignity.  The  scholar  comes 
to  the  study  of  Pindar,  as  to  that  of  one  whom  fable  and  history, 
poetry  and  criticism  have  alike  delighted  to  honor.  The  writers 
of  Greece  speak  of  him  as  the  man  whose  birth  was  celebrated 
by  the  songs  and  dances  of  the  deities  themselves,  in  joyous  an- 
ticipation of  those  immortal  hymns  which  he  was  to  frame  in 
their  praise.  Pindar  is  not  merely  a  devout,  but  he  is  also  an 
eminently  moral  poet.  Plato  observes  of  him,  in  the  Menon, 
that  he  maintained  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  and  he  lays  down 
with  remarkable  distinctness,  the  doctrine  of  future  happiness 
or  misery.  Hence,  his  poems  abound  with  maxims  of  the  highest 
morality.  Of  his  extensive  literary  labors,  we  have  remaining 
at  the  present  day  forty-five  triumphal  odes,  together  with  some 
few  fragments  of  his  other  productions." 

Criticism  by  Doctor  Blair. — "  Pindar  is  the  great  father  of 
lyric  poetry ;  his  genius  was  sublime ;  his  expressions  are  beauti- 
ful and  happy ;  his  descriptions  picturesque.  The  ancients  ad- 
mired him  greatly.  Our  pleasure  in  reading  him  is  somewhat 
diminished  by  his  rapid  and  abrupt  style  and  by  his  obscure 
allusions  to  particular  families  and  cities  unknown  to  us.  He 
was  imitated  by  Euripides  and  Sophocles  in  the  choral  lyrics 
and  by  the  Latin  School." 

Sappho. —  She  was  a  native  of  Lesbos,  and  probably  spent 
most  of  her  life  at  Mytilene.  Her  date  cannot  be  fixed  with 
certainty,  but  she  must  have  lived  about  the  beginning  of  the 
6th  century  B.  C,  as  she  was  a  contemporary  of  Alcaeus  and 
Pittacus.  Her  life,  like  that  of  Homer,  is  unknown,  although 
legend  and  fable  have  been  busy,  sometimes  at  the  expense 
<jf  her  morals  and  character.  Her  poetry  is  preserved  only 
in  fragments,  but  from  these  fragments  it  is  clear  that  she 
was  incomparably  the  greatest  lyric  poetess  the  world  has  ever 
seen. 

Criticism  by  James  A.  Plowden. — "  In  antiquity  the  fame 
of  Sappho  rivalled  that  of  Homer.  She  was  called  '  the  poetess  ' 
as  he  was  called  '  the  poet/  Different  writers  style  her  '  the  tenth 


536  THE  LYRIC 

Muse,'  '  the  flower  of  the  Graces,'  a  '  Miracle,'  '  the  beautiful ' ; 
the  last  epitaph  referring  to  her  writings.  Her  poems  were  ar- 
ranged in  nine  books.  The  few  remains  which  have  come  down 
to  us  amply  testify  to  the  justice  of  the  praises  lavished  upon 
Sappho  by  the  ancients.  The  perfection  and  finish  of  every 
line,  the  correspondence  of  sense  and  sound,  the  incomparable 
command  over  all  the  most  delicate  resources  of  verse,  and  the 
exquisite  symmetry  of  the  complete  odes  raise  her  into  the  very 
first  rank  of  technical  poetry  at  once,  while  her  direct  and  fervent 
painting  of  passion  has  never  been  since  surpassed.  Her  frag- 
ments bear  witness  to  a  profound  feeling  for  the  beauty  of 
nature ;  we  know  from  other  sources  that  she  had  a  peculiar 
delight  in  flowers,  and  especially  in  the  rose.  The  ancients  also 
attributed  to  her  a  considerable  power  in  satire." 

Horace. —  Quintus  Horatius  Flaccus  was  born  at  Venusium, 
65  B.  C,  and  lived  to  the  age  of  fifty-eight  years.  Like  Pin- 
dar and  Sappho  among  the  Greeks,  Horace  is  known  as  the 
best  lyric  writer  among  the  Romans.  Horace  took  part  in  the 
civil  war,  joining  the  army  of  Brutus  and  flying  from  the 
field  of  Philippi.  After  the  accession  of  Augustus,  he  lived 
under  the  patronage  of  Maecenas,  who  provided  the  poet  with 
an  ample  stipend.  His  works  are  divided  into  odes,  epodes, 
satires  and  epistles ;  his  fame  and  merit  as  a  lyric  writer  have 
been  admitted  by  the  critics  of  every  nation  and  age. 

Criticism  by  Alexander  Smith. — "  The  lyrics  of  Horace  are 
imitations  of  the  Greek  poets.  One  cannot  escape  the  conviction 
that,  like  the  poetry  of  Alexander  Pope,  these  lyrics  are  con- 
structed in  a  highly  artificial  manner ;  the  stronger  and  more 
powerful  feelings  of  human  nature  are  seldom  displayed  in  them, 
owing  to  the  presence  of  this  artificial  note.  His  best  lyrics  are 
those  descriptive  of  country  life ;  for  the  beauties  of  nature  he  had 
as  keen  an  appreciation  and  relish  as  Sappho.  Besides  this,  he 
had  clear  judgment,  strong  good  sense  and  purity  of  taste." 

Criticism  by  Blair. — "  The  name  of  Horace  cannot  be  men- 
tioned without  particular  praise ;  that  *  Curiosa  Felicitas  '  which 


PETRARCH  537 

has  been  remarked  in  his  expression;  the  sweetness,  elegance 
and  spirit  of  many  of  his  lyrics ;  the  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
world,  the  excellent  sentiments  and  natural  easy  manner,  which 
distinguish  his  satires  and  epistles  —  all  contribute  to  render  him 
one  of  those  very  few  authors  whom  one  never  tires  of  reading, 
and  from  whom,  were  every  other  monument  destroyed,  we 
should  be  led  to  form  a  very  high  idea  of  the  taste  and  genius 
of  the  Augustan  age.  Of  all  the  writers  of  lyrics,  ancient  or 
modern,  there  is  none  that,  in  point  of  correctness,  harmony,  and 
happy  expression,  can  vie  with  Horace.  He  has  descended 
from  the  Pindaric  rapture  to  a  more  moderate  degree  of  eleva- 
tion, and  joins  connected  thought  and  good  sense  with  the  highest 
beauties  of  poetry.  The  peculiar  character  in  which  he  excels, 
is  grace  and  elegance ;  and  in  this  style  of  composition  no  poet 
has  ever  attained  to  a  greater  perfection  than  Horace.  No  poet 
supports  a  moral  sentiment  with  more  dignity,  touches  a  gay 
one  more  happily,  or  possesses  the  art  of  trifling  more  agreeably 
when  he  choses  to  trifle.  His  language  is  so  fortunate  that  with 
a  single  word  or  epithet  he  often  conveys  a  whole  description 
to  the  fancy.  Hence,  he  ever  has  been,  and  ever  will  continue 
to  be,  a  favorite  author  with  all  persons  of  taste." 

Petrarch.— Francesco  Petrarch  was  born  at  Arezzo,  Italy, 
in  1304,  and  died  near  Padua  in  1374.  He  studied  at  Mont- 
pelier,  where  he  remained  until  he  was  eighteen.  He  was 
crowned  poet  laureate  in  Rome,  1341.  His  chief  works  belong 
to  the  department  of  the  lyric;  they  are  sonnets  and  odes  in 
honor  of  Laura.  His  letters  and  orations  are  numerous,  and 
he  wrote  a  number  of  controversial  and  polemical  treatises. 
All  critics  admit  his  title  to  first  place  among  Italian  lyric 
poets. 

Criticism    by    Frederick    Schlegel.— "  The    lyric    poetry    of 

Petrarch  must  be  classified  as  love-song,  and  should  be  com- 
pared with  the  love-song  of  Spain  and  Germany  to  be  duly 
comprehended.  On  instituting  a  comparative  examination,  Pe- 
trarch's especial  characteristic  will  be  found  to  consist  in  a  more 
artistic  spiritual  platonism  than  is  evinced  by  any  other  love- 


THE  LYRIC 

poet  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Some  of  his  commentators  have  gone 
so  far  as  to  contend  that  his  Laura  was  no  historic  personage 
at  all,  but  a  mere  personification  of  his  ideal  fancy.  This,  in 
turn,  has  been  stoutly  denied;  proofs  have  been  adduced  from 
the  church  registers  not  only  of  her  actual  existence,  but  also 
of  her  marriage  and  her  numerous  family.  A  still  stronger  proof 
is  a  lovely  portrait  of  her  in  the  Petrarch  collection  at  Florence. 
The  verse  of  Petrarch  is  not  deficient  in  that  allegorical  spirit 
which  is  so  generally  characteristic  of  mediaeval  minstrelsy.  In 
metrical  skill,  as  also  in  the  cultivation  of  his  native  idiom,  he 
is  undoubtedly  entitled  to  be  ranked  among  the  foremost  bards 
who  composed  in  any  of  the  Romanic  tongues." 

Criticism  by  J.  A.  Symonds. — "  As  an  author,  Petrarch  must 
be  considered  from  two  points  of  view  —  first,  as  a  writer  of 
Latin  verse  and  prose ;  secondly,  as  an  Italian  lyrist.  In  the 
former  capacity  he  was  speedily  outstripped  by  more  fortunate 
scholars  and  contemporaries.  His  epistles,  and  '  Epic  of  Africa  ' 
on  which  he  set  such  store,  exhibited  a  comparatively  limited 
command  of  Latin  metre;  his  treatises  and  orations  are  not 
remarkable  for  purity  of  diction.  But  as  a  lyrist,  Petrarch  oc- 
cupies a  very  different  position.  We  can  say  with  Shelley  that 
his  lyrics  are  spells  which  unseal  the  inmost  enchanted  fountains 
of  the  delight  which  is  the  grief  of  love.  Petrarch,  in  his  mon- 
umental series  of  odes  and  sonnets,  depicted  all  the  moods  of  a 
real  passion,  and  presented  them  in  a  style  of  such  lucidity,  with 
so  exquisite  a  command  of  rhythmical  resources,  and  with  hu- 
manity of  emotion  so  simple  and  so  true,  as  to  render  his  por- 
trait of  a  lover's  soul  applicable  to  all  who  have  loved  and  will 
love  for  ages.  Regarding  Laura,  we  derive  no  clear  conception 
either  of  her  person  or  her  character.  She  is  not  so  much  a 
woman  as  woman  in  the  abstract ;  and  perhaps  on  this  very  ac- 
count the  poems  written  for  her  by  her  lover  have  been  taken 
to  the  heart  by  countless  lovers  who  came  after  him.  The 
method  of  his  art  is  so  generalizing,  while  his  feeling  is  so 
natural,  that  every  man  can  see  himself  reflected  in  the  singer, 
and  his  mistress  shadowed  forth  in  Laura.  The  same  criticism 
might  be  passed  on  Petrarch's  description  of  nature.  That  he 
felt  the  beauties  of  nature  keenly,  is  certain,  and  he  frequently 
touches  them  with  obvious  appreciation.  Yet  he  has  written 


SCHILLER 

nothing  so  characteristic  of  Vancluse  as  to  be  inapplicable  to 
any  solitude  where  there  are  woods  and  water.  His  lyrics  are, 
therefore,  one  long  melodious  monody  poured  from  the  poet's 
soul,  with  the  indefinite  form  of  a  beautiful  woman  seated  in  a 
lovely  landscape,  a  perpetual  object  of  delightful  contemplation. 
English  readers  may  be  referred  to  a  little  book  on  Petrarch 
by  Henry  Reeve,  and  to  Symond's  '  Renaissance  in  Italy/  " 

Schiller. —  He  was  born  in  Wurtemberg  in  1759  and  died  at 
Weimar  in  1805.  He  became  a  famous  German  lyric  poet, 
dramatist  and  historian,  publishing  in  all  seventeen  volumes. 
He  divides  honors  with  Goethe  in  the  department  of  the  drama, 
but  is  superior  to  every  other  German  poet  in  the  sweetness 
and  tenderness  of  his  lyrics. 

Criticism  by  Professor  Sievers. — "  Schiller  began  his  literary 
career  at  the  age  of  twenty-two.  He  wrote  dramas  of  which  the 
best  known  are  '  The  Robbers/  '  Maria  Stewart '  and  '  William 
Tell/  These  dramas  alone  would  place  an  author  high  on  the 
ladder  of  literary  fame.  But  Schiller  wrote  ballads  and  lyrics 
as  well  —  lyrics  which  place  him  first  among  German  writers  in 
this  species  of  composition.  His  great  lyric  rival  was  Goethe 
who  admitted  that  Schiller  outstripped  him  in  the  race.  Schil- 
ler's masterpiece  is  the  world-famous  lyric  the  '  Song  of  the 
Bell/  This  lyric  within  a  small  compass  presents  an  impressive 
picture  of  the  course  of  human  life,  varying  its  melody  with 
subtle  art  to  suit  the  changing  aspects  of  the  theme.  *  The 
Genius/  '  The  Ideal/  and  '  The  Walk  '  are  lyrics  which  compare 
favorably  with  the  '  Song  of  the  Bell/  These  lyrics  of  Schiller 
express  in  clear  and  noble  language  some  of  the  highest  feelings 
excited  in  a  poetic  mind  by  the  contemplation  of  human  life 
and  destiny/' 

Criticism  by  Frederick  SchlegeL — "  In  the  impassioned  pro- 
ductions of  his  early  prime,  we  see  Schiller  incessantly  moved  by 
the  conflict  of  inner  emotions;  he  is  urged  onwards  by  the  en- 
thusiastic hopes  to  improve  the  existing  state  of  all  things.  A 
sort  of  violent  optimisim  has  taken  possession  of  him  and  this 
optimism  finds  the  sweetest  of  lyric  expression.  In  tfce  serious 


540  THE  LYRIC 

lyrics  of  every  nation,  feeling  must  preponderate  over  thought, 
and  have  as  it  were  a  commanding  aim  if  it  is  to  be  suitably 
expressed  in  melody.  Now  seriousness  is  a  characteristic  of 
all  the  lyrics  written  by  Schiller ;  they  are  poems  with  a  purpose ; 
the  feeling  pervading  them  is  genuine,  and  no  lyric  poet  ever 
lived  who  knew  better  how  to  touch  the  springs  of  feeling.  The 
same  observation  holds  good  of  his  dramas,  as  anyone  who  has 
read  Maria  Stewart  or  William  Tell  can  bear  witness." 

Heine. —  Heinrich  Heine  was  born  in  1799  and  died  in  1856. 
He  was  of  Jewish  descent.  At  one  time  he  studied  with  the 
view  of  entering  the  legal  profession,  but  he  attended  no  lec- 
tures at  the  University  except  those  on  literature,  by  Schlegel. 
He  began  to  write  lyric  poems  in  1822  and  continued  to  do 
so  until  his  death.  Heine  devoted  himself  to  journalism  and 
satire  as  well  as  to  lyric  poetry.  His  prose  is  sullied  by  irrev- 
erence and  blasphemy,  his  satire,  like  that  of  Swift,  touches 
at  times  the  lowest  depths  of  vulgarity,  and  the  prose  style 
itself  is  not  calculated  to  contribute  to  his  literary  fame. 
Heine  will  be  remembered  as  a  lyric  writer  who  in  this  species 
of  composition  ranks  next  to  Schiller. 

Criticism  by  Matthew  Arnold. — "  I  wish  to  mark  Heine's 
place  in  modern  European  literature,  the  scope  of  his  activity,  and 
his  value.  I  cannot  attempt  to  give  here  a  detailed  account  of 
his  life,  or  a  description  of  his  separate  works.  In  May,  1831, 
he  went  over  his  Jordan,  the  Rhine,  and  fixed  himself  in  his 
new  Jerusalem,  Paris.  There,  henceforward,  he  lived,  going 
in  general  to  some  French  watering-place  in  the  summer,  but 
making  only  one  or  two  short  visits  to  Germany  during  the 
rest  of  his  life.  His  works,  in  verse  and  prose,  succeed  each 
other  without  stopping ;  a  collected  edition  of  them,  filling  seven 
closely-printed  octavo  volumes,  has  been  published  in  America ; 
in  the  collected  editions  of  few  people's  works  is  there  so  little 
to  skip.  Those  who  wish  for  a  single  good  specimen  of  him 
should  read  his  first  important  work,  the  work  which  made  his 
reputation,  the  Reisebilder,  or  '  Travelling  Sketches  ' :  prose  and 
verse,  wit  and  seriousness,  are  mingled  in  it,  and  the  mingling 


ALFRED  DR  MUSSET  54, 

of  these  is  characteristic  of  Heine,  and  is  nowhere  to  be  seen 
practiced  more  naturally  and  happily  than  in  his  Rciscbilder. 

'  The  magic  of  Heine's  poetical  form  is  incomparable ;  he 
chiefly  uses  a  form  of  old  German  popular  poetry,  a  ballad-form 
which  has  more  rapidity  and  grace  than  any  ballad-form  of  ours ; 
he  employs  this  form  with  the  most  exquisite  lightness  and  ease, 
and  yet  it  has  at  the  same  time  the  inborn  fulness,  pathos,  and 
old-world  charm  of  all  true  forms  of  popular  poetry.  Thus  in 
Heine's  poetry,  too,  one  perpetually  blends  the  impression  of 
French  modernism  and  clearness  with  that  of  German  sentiment 
and  fulness;  and  to  give  this  blended  impression  is,  as  I  have 
said,  Heine's  great  characteristic." 

Alfred  De  Musset.— He  was  born  in  1810  and  died  in 
1857.  He  studied  and  lived  in  Paris.  In  his  twentieth  year 
he  published  his  first  volume  of  poetry.  He  wrote  several 
plays  and  a  number  of  short  stories,  all  well  received ;  but  his 
chief  work  lay  in  the  department  of  the  lyric.  If  not  the 
greatest  French  lyric  author,  he  is  among  her  foremost  lyric 
representatives;  all  critics  admit  the  supreme  excellence  of  his 
work. 

Criticism  by  Rene  Doumic. — "  The  three  qualities  which  Al- 
fred de  Musset  possessed  were  elegance,  insight  and  inspiration ; 
with  these  he  achieved  the  grandest  flights  of  epic  poetry.  One 
more  quality  should  be  added,  sadness.  No  French  poet  is  more 
uniformly  sorrowful.  He  seems  to  be  master  of  all  the  ideas 
associated  with  grief,  and  he  has  clothed  them  all  with  exquisite 
imagery.  His  definition,  or  rather  law  of  poetry  is  that  the  more 
sorrowful  and  hopeless  the  poet  is,  the  more  beautiful  he  will 
sing.  This  law  certainly  applies  to  De  Musset  and  his  class  of 
lyrists.  His  poems,  for  the  most  part,  are  gloomy  meditations 
on  death  and  oblivion  and  the  insufficiency  of  human  love  to 
satisfy  man's  heart,  the  disappointment  and  final  regret  which 
attends  pleasure.  The  deepest  emotions  are  aroused  by  his  med- 
itations on  such  themes  —  meditations  which  stamp  this  lyric 
genius  as  the  worst  kind  of  a  pessimist.  For,  out  of  this  vale 
of  tears  and  lamentation  and  despair,  Faith  points  to  no  exit  or 
deliverance  —  De  Musset  has  neither  Faith  nor  Hope.  As  to 


c42  THE  LYRIC 

literary  form,  De  Musset  is  unrivalled,  his  technique  is  perfect, 
yet  not  the  result  of  overmuch  study  or  artifice.  In  moments 
of  passion  his  style  reaches  a  precision  and  exactness  which  form 
the  basis  of  lasting  merit.  One  may  observe  throughout  his 
work  traces  of  a  strong  and  rich  and  varied  imagination;  his 
genius  not  wide  in  scope  gained  thereby  in  profundity.  We 
may  conclude  by  remarking  that  he  has  fathomed  and  depicted 
the  intensity,  the  depth  of  the  agony  of  the  human  soul  for  all 
time.  Higher  praise  than  this  cannot  be  accorded  to  a  lyric 
poet.  We  may  also  observe  in  conclusion  that  his  poetry  is  a 
reflection  of  his  own  life  —  its  gloom  and  pessimism,  its  vices 
and  excesses  —  it  was  a  life  of  sin  with  the  inevitable  sorrow, 
the  primrose  path  that  closed  in  dejection  and  despair." 

Tennyson. —  He  was  born  at  Somersby,  in  Lincolnshire, 
1810,  arid  succeeded  Wordsworth  as  Laureate  in  1850.  He 
was  educated  at  Cambridge,  where  in  1829  he  gained  the 
Chancellor's  medal  for  a  prize  poem.  In  1830  he  published 
his  first  volume  under  the  title  of  "  Poems,  Chiefly  Lyrical." 
It  had  a  very  cold  reception,  some  reviewers  calling  it  "  Dismal 
Drivel."  Ten  years  of  study  and  retirement,  and  Tennyson 
again  ventured  to  publish  his  lyrics,  this  time  with  marked 
success.  His  popularity  has  grown  ever  since.  It  is  safe 
to  claim  for  him  first  place  among  the  lyric  writers  in  English 
literature.  His  chief  poems  are  Locksley  Hall,  the  Princess, 
the  Idylls  of  the  King,  Maud,  The  Lotus  Eaters,  In  Memoriam. 
Short  pieces  of  exquisite  beauty  are  "Break,  Break,  Break"; 
"  Crossing  the  Bar  " ;  "  The  Poet " ;  "  Spring  " ;  "  Vastness." 

Criticism  by  William  H.  Sheran. —  If  we  compare  Tenny- 
son with  his  predecessors,  we  find  that  he  differs  from  them,  or 
rather  is  superior  to  them,  in  several  respects.  First  of  all,  we 
note  his  greater  power  of  condensation  in  accordance  with  the 
genius  and  method  of  lyric  poetry ;  he  is  able  to  compress  his 
thought  within  narrower  limits;  he  is  able  to  say  in  a  few  lines 
what  his  predecessors  would  spread  over  as  many  pages.  Terse- 
ness is,  then,  a  characteristic  of  Tennyson.  As  an  example,  one 
may  cite  the  '  Splendor  Falls  on  Castle  Walls/  or,  '  Break,  Break, 


SHELLEY  543 

Break/  or,  '  Flow  Down  Cold  Rivulet/  Within  equal  limits  it 
seems  quite  impossible  to  make  language  more  expressive.  A 
second  characteristic  in  which  he  excels  his  predecessors,  is  the 
happy  union  of  word-picture  and  music.  The  '  Splendor  Falls 
on  Castle  Walls '  may  be  taken  as  an  illustration  in  point.  Here 
we  have  a  complete  medieval  picture  in  four  short  lines,  and 
framed  in  the  most  exquisite  music.  The  '  Palace  of  Art '  is 
another  illustration,  any  stanza  of  which  would  offer  a  theme  for 
a  canvas  —  any  stanza  of  which  would  convince  the  reader  that 
Tennyson  is  a  very  great  master  of  English  harmonics,  perhaps 
the  greatest  of  all  our  musical  writers,  at  least  on  a  plane  with 
Shelley,  Keats,  Spenser  and  Milton.  Besides  the  exquisite 
character  of  Tennyson's  painting  and  music,  the  critic  must  note 
his  perfect  technique,  the  happy  choice  of  themes,  the  high  moral 
tone,  and  the  sustained  quality  of  his  work.  In  the  matter  of 
literary  form,  he  has  fewer  imperfect  lines  and  meters  than  any 
other  great  English  writer;  the  subjects  which  he  selected  gave 
the  largest  scope  to  lyric  genius  —  subjects  like  the  *  In  Me- 
moriam,'  or  '  Enoch  Arden/  exciting  the  deepest  emotion.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  publish  an  abridged  edition  of  his  works,  either 
to.exclude  unsavory  passages,  or  to  secure  a  just  estimate  of  his 
poetic  talent.  Every  line  of  Tennyson  may  be  read  for  beauty 
of  form  and  fancy,  for  painting  and  music,  as  well  as  for  moral 
and  spiritual  profit. 

Shelley. —  He  was  born  in  Sussex,  England,  August  5th, 
1792 ;  died  in  Italy,  July  8th,  1822.  He  was  educated  at  Eton 
and  Oxford.  Like  many  men  of  Literary  genius,  Shelley  suf- 
fered from  moral  lapses;  a  wild,  uncontrollable  passion  which 
set  at  defiance  all  laws  and  restraints  imposed  by  State,  Church, 
or  society.  Generosity,  charity,  a  passionate  love  of  liberty, 
were  the  better  traits  of  his  character.  As  an  artist  in  the  de- 
partment of  lyric  poetry,  he  has  no  superior,  and  few  equals 
among  Englishmen:  Representative  lyrics  are  his  odes  to 
the  Skylark  and  to  the  West  Wind. 

Criticism  by  Professor  Dowden. — "  Although  Shelley  wrote 
narrative  poems  and  one  great  tragedy,  his  genius  was  primarily 


544  THE  LYRIC 

lyrical,  and  his  poetry  tells  more  to  a  reader  who  is  acquainted 
with  his  character  and  events  of  his  life  than  to  one  who  knows 
the  poems  only  as  if  they  had  fallen  out  of  the  air  from  some 
invisible  singer.  No  poet  ever  sang  more  directly  out  of  his 
own  feelings  —  his  joys,  his  sorrows,  his  desires,  his  regrets;  and 
what  he  has  written  acquires  a  fuller  meaning  when  we  under- 
stand its  source  and  its  occasion.  Shelley's  poetry  belongs  also 
to  a  particular  epoch  in  the  world's  history  —  the  revolutionary 
epoch  — and  what  may  fairly  be  described  as  the  body  of  doc- 
trine which  forms  the  intellectual  background  of  his  imaginative 
visions  can  be  comprehended  only  when  we  consider  his  work 
in  relation  to  the  period  of  which  it  is  the  outcome.  '  A  beautiful 
and  ineffectual  angel,  beating  in  the  void  his  luminous  wings 
in  vain  ' —  so  Matthew  Arnold,  with  a  variation  of  Joubert's  sen- 
tence on  Plato,  denned  his  conception  of  Shelley.  The  charm  of 
the  phrase  must  not  render  us  insensible  of  its  remoteness  from 
the  fact.  Shelley  was  no  angel,  whether  of  celestial  or  diabolic 
race,  but  most  human  in  his  passions,  his  errors,  his  failure,  his 
achievement.  Nor  was  it  in  the  void  that  he  lived  and  moved ; 
he  belonged  in  an  eminent  degree  to  the  revolutionary  movement 
of  his  own  day." 

Longfellow. —  He  was  born  in  Maine,  February  27,  1807; 
died  at  Cambridge,  1882.  He  studied  at  Bowdoin  College, 
became  a  distinguished  linguist,  traveled  much  in  foreign  coun- 
tries, taught  Belles-Lettres  in  Harvard  College.  Longfel- 
low wrote  a  considerable  amount  of  prose  and  verse ;  his  chief 
literary  distinction  is  that  of  a  lyric  writer.  As  a  lyrist,  he 
divides  with  Poe  the  first  honors  in  American  literature.  His 
best  work  associates  his  name  with  Keats  and  Tennyson. 

Criticism  by  Martin  Williston. — "  It  is  not  a  gracious  office 
to  analyze  the  qualities  of  the  true  poet  or  to  attempt  to  classify 
his  work  after  scientific  canons.  Longfellow  did  not  belong  to 
that  class  of  singers  who  are  rapt  away  with  violent  and  un- 
controllable inspirations ;  his  creations  are  never  spasmodically 
born.  He  was  no  '  God  intoxicated  '  man,  across  whose  uncon- 
scious spirit  the  madness  of  a  mighty  mood  sweeps  and  carries 
him  into  what  heavens  and  deeps  he  knows  not.  Rather  he  was 


LONGFELLOW 

a  listening  soul,  bringing-  an  intelligent  ear  to  the  oracle,  and 
interpreting  through  his  own  calm  and  generous  wisdom  the 
message  learned.  He  communed  with  nature;  he  kept  her  fel- 
lowship, but  was  never  made  beside  himself  by  even  her  greatest 
communications.  He  was  an  intent  observer  of  the  universe, 
never  losing  his  own  judgment  or  surrendering  his  thought  ful- 
ness. Whether  he  would  have  been  more  Pythian  in  his  muse 
and  less  calmly  wise  had  he  not  at  the  outset  of  his  course  been 
immersed  in  the  Romanticism  of  modern  Europe,  and  felt  the 
subduing  power  of  mediaeval  reminiscence  amid  the  stately  tem- 
ples of  the  Old  World,  is  questionable.  He  was  fully  in  sympathy 
with  whatever  is  valuable  or  nobly  characteristic  in  the  civilization 
of  this  America  of  ours  which  is  at  once  the  youngest  and  the 
oldest  on  earth.  It  was  his  nature  to  see  things  as  he  did, 
meditatively,  deliberatively,  with  an  instinctive  reference  to  the 
things  that  had  been.  He  delighted  in  the  twilight  view  of  men 
who  had  passed  by,  and  he  loved  to  spend  dreamy  hours  amid 
the  withdrawn  centuries,  musing  on  the  life  that  had  filled  this 
world,  a  life  so  like  and  so  unlike  that  which  was  even  then 
going  past  under  the  high  noon  of  the  glaring  present.  As  he 
went  further  down  the  descent  of  years  he  imbibed  somewhat 
more  fully  than  at  first  the  spirit  of  a  primitive  age,  and  looked 
at  the  universe  with  deeply  questioning  eyes,  less  and  less  dis- 
posed to  think  most  things  explicable.  He  was  nearly  seventy 
when  he  wrote  the  '  Mask  of  Pandora/  and  in  this  impressive 
poem  he  reveals  his  altered  mood  toward  the  mysteries  of  being. 
Nature  has  grown  more  oracular,  her  explanations  less  distinct 
than  he  had  believed  them  to  be.  At  all  times  he  held  his  soul 
devoutly  ready  to  be  awakened  by  the  voices  of  God  to  the  world ; 
his  was  the  reverent  and  worshipful  muse,  and  his  singing,  there- 
fore, was  eagerly  heard  by  the  multitude.  He  wished  to  utter 
that  which  the  usual  man  could  take  into  his  heart  and  find  food 
for  his  diviner  self.  It  was  this  lofty  humanity  that  gave  him 
the  unwearying  love  of  so  many  millions.  He  loved  to  find  the 
field  of  celestial  enterprise  among  homely  and  familiar  exper- 
iences. He  chose  for  his  themes  brave  deeds  of  simple  men,  the 
patient  suffering  of  quiet  and  inconspicuous  people,  heroism 
where  no  pageantry  surrounded  it.  He  culled  the  flowers  of 
history  for  their  sweetness  of  self-sacrifice,  and  searched  the 
past  to  illumine  by  its  most  radiant  examples  the  nobler  possi- 


546  THE  LYRIC 

bilities  of  the  sober  present.  He  never  thought  himself  a  solar 
genius,  to  be  set  at  last  among  the  fixed  stars  of  the  heaven  of 
fame,  but  he  valued  the  fame  of  his  genius  for  the  light  it 
could  shed  upon  the  path  that  is  daily  trod  by  the  working 
throng  of  our  crowded  world.  He  was  completely  subjective  to 
his  method.  What  is  the  best  way  to  employ  this  interior  man? 
How  can  we  make  our  lives  sublime?  What  is  beautiful  and 
suitable  in  this  middle  world  between  the  final  good  and  ill? 
These  are  the  questions  that  may  be  heard  beneath  the  harmonies 
of  his  perfect  verse.  Longfellow  is  not  the  most  original  of 
poets.  He  does  not  attempt  the  profundities  of .  psychology,  nor 
venture  new  explanations  of  the  frame  of  things.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  was  never  a  slavish  adherent  of  dogmatic  opinions, 
whether  in  the  realm  of  faith  or  science,  though  most  of  his  life 
satisfied  with  the  ordinary  Christian  account  of  the  higher  revela- 
tion of  man  to  his  God.  He  did  not  care  for  an  agitating  investi- 
gation into  the  undeclared  secrets  of  moral  and  material  existence. 
His  genius  did  not  lead  him  to  search  for  his  first  principles.  He 
rested  in  a  large  faith  in  the  Invisible.  He  was  willing  to  be 
quiet  in  a  noble  agnosticism  that  assumed  what  knowledge  could 
not  assert,  but  was  luminous  with  a  rational  trust  in  the  all- 
enfolding  goodness  of  God.  He  believed  that  so  long  as  man 
continued  on  earth,  he  could  not  learn  all  things,  quite  ready 
to  concede 

'I  do  not  know,  nor  will  I  vainly  question 
Those  pages  of  the  mystic  book  which  hold 

The  story  still  untold. 
But  without  rash  conjecture  or  suggestion 
Turn  its  last  leaves  in  reverence  and  good  heed 

Until  'the  End'  I  read.' 

He  had  no  fondness  for  that  morbid  analysis  of  human  nature 
so  characteristic  of  the  modern  school  of  fiction,  whose  most 
distinguished  and  principal  representative  is  found  in  George 
Eliot.  Art  he  held  to  be  constructive  and  creative,  not  inquis- 
itorial nor  surgical.  It  was  no  vivisection  of  the  human  soul  he 
was  aiming  at,  but  the  vivifying  of  human  nature  with  divine  im- 
pulses. He  penetrated  his  descriptions  and  reports  of  the  world 
with  his  own  pure  spirit,  and  so  conveyed  a  virtue  with  every 
reception  of  his  blessed  communication.  We  become  better  as 
we  confer  with  this  unordained  priest  of  moral  beauty,  this 


LONGFELLOW 


547 


singing  servitor  of  all  truth,  who  has  the  gifts  of  God  to  bestow, 
and  the  highest  promises  of  existence  to  declare  to  us.  He 
pictures  the  exquisite  things,  honor,  magnanimity,  love  and  all 
events,  using  the  outer  life  as  studio  and  canvas  for  this  scenic 
art  of  the  soul." 


CHAPTER  LIIL 
CONCLUSION 

Thoughts   from   Matthew   Arnold's  Essay  in   Criticism. — 

"  The  critical  power  is  of  lower  rank  than  the  creative.  True ; 
but  in  assenting  to  this  proposition,  one  or  two  things  are  to  be 
kept  in  mind.  It  is  undeniable  that  the  exercise  of  a  creative 
power,  that  a  free  creative  activity,  is  the  highest  funtion  of 
man ;  it  is  proved  to  be  so  by  man's  finding  in  it  his  true  happi- 
ness. But  it  is  undeniable,  also,  that  men  may  have  the  sense 
of  exercising  this  free  creative  activity  in  other  ways  than  in 
producing  great  works  of  literature  or  art;  if  it  were  not  so,  all 
but  a  very  few  men  would  be  shut  out  from  the  true  happiness  of 
all  men.  They  may  have  it  in  well-doing,  they  may  have  it  in 
learning,  they  may  have  it  even  in  criticising.  This  is  one  thing 
to  be  kept  in  mind.  Another  is,  that  the  exercise  of  the  creative 
power  in  the  production  of  great  works  of  literature  or  art, 
however  high  this  exercise  of  it  may  rank,  is  not  at  all  epochs 
and  under  all  conditions  possible;  and  that,  therefore,  labor  may 
be  vainly  spent  in  attempting  it,  which  might  with  more  fruit  be 
used  in  preparing  for  it,  in  rendering  it  possible.  This  creative 
power  works  with  elements,  with  materials;  what  if* it  has  not 
those  materials,  those  elements,  ready  for  its  use  ?  In  that  case 
it  must  surely  wait  till  they  are  ready.  Now,  in  literature  —  I 
will  limit  myself  to  literature,  for  it  is  about  literature  that  the 
question  arises  —  the  elements  with  which  the  creative  power 
works  are  ideas;  the  best  ideas  on  every  matter  which  literature 
touches,  current  at  the  time.  At  any  rate  we  may  lay  it  down 
as  certain  that  in  modern  literature  no  manifestation  of  the 
creative  power  not  working  with  these  can  be  very  important 
or  fruitful.  And  I  say  current  at  the  time,  not  merely  accessible 
at  the  time ;  for  creative  literary  genius  does  not  principally  show 
itself  in  discovering  new  ideas,  that  is  rather  the  business  of  the 
philosopher.  The  grand  work  of  literary  genius  is  a  work  of 
synthesis  and  exposition,  not  of  analysis  and  discovery ;  its  gift 

548 


ARNOLD  ON  CRITICISM 

lies  in  the  faculty  of  being  happily  inspired  by  a  certain  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual  atmosphere,  by  a  certain  order  of  ideas, 
when  it  finds  itself  in  them ;  of  dealing  divinely  with  these  ideas, 
presenting  them  in  the  most  effective  and  attractive  combina- 
tions—  making  beautiful  works  with  them,  in  short.  Hut  it 
must  have  the  atmosphere,  it  must  find  itself  amidst  the  order 
of  ideas,  in  order  to  work  freely;  and  these  it  is  not  so  easy  to 
command.  This  is  why  great  creative  epochs  in  literature  are 
so  rare,  this  is  why  there  is  so  much  that  is  unsatisfactory  in 
the  productions  of  many  men  of  real  genius;  because  for  the 
creation  of  a  master-work  of  literature  two  powers  must  concur, 
the  power  of  the  man  and  the  power  of  the  moment,  and  the 
man  is  not  enough  without  the  moment ;  the  creative  power  has, 
for  its  happy  exercise,  appointed  elements,  and  those  elements  are 
not  in  its  own  control.  Nay,  they  are  more  within  the  control 
of  the  critical  power.  It  is  the  business  of  the  critical  power, 
as  I  said  in  the  words  already  quoted,  '  in  all  branches  of  knowl- 
edge, theology,  philosophy,  history,  art,  science,  to  see  the  object 
as  in  itself  it  really  is.'  Thus,  it  tends,  at  last,  to  make  an  intel- 
lectual situation  of  which  the  creative  power  can  profitably  avail 
itself.  It  tends  to  establish  an  order  of  ideas,  if  not  absolutely 
true,  yet  true  by  comparison  with  that  which  it  displaces ;  to 
make  the  best  ideas  prevail.  Presently,  these  new  ideas  reach 
society,  the  touch  of  truth  is  the  touch  of  life,  and  there  is  a 
stir  and  growth  everywhere ;  out  of  this  stir  and  growth  come  the 
creative  epochs  of  literature. 

"  The  critic  should  have  a  disinterested  endeavor  to  learn  and 
propagate  the  best  that  is  known  and  thought  in  the  world  and 
thus  to  establish  a  current  of  fresh  and  true  ideas.  By  the  very 
nature  of  things,  as  England  is  not  all  the  world,  much  of  the  best 
that  is  known  and  thought  in  the  world  cannot  be  of  English 
growth,  must  be  foreign;  by  the  nature  of  things,  again,  it  is 
just  this  that  we  are  least  likely  to  know,  while  English  thought 
is  streaming  in  upon  us  from  all  sides,  and  takes  excellent  care 
that  we  shall  not  be  ignorant  of  its  existence.  The  English  critic 
of  literature,  therefore,  must  dwell  much  on  foreign  thought,  and 
with  particular  heed  on  any  part  of  it,  which,  while  significant  and 
fruitful  in  itself,  is  for  any  reason  specially  likely  to  escape  him. 
Again,  judging  is  often  spoken  of  as  the  critic's  own  business,  and 
so  in  some  sense  it  is;  but  the  judgment  which  almost  insensibly 


550 


CONCLUSION 


forms  itself  in  a  fair  and  clear  mind,  along  with  fresh  knowledge, 
is  the  valuable  one ;  and  thus  knowledge,  and  ever  fresh  knowl- 
edge, must  be  the  critic's  great  concern  for  himself.  And  it  is 
by  communicating  fresh  knowledge,  and  letting  his  own  judg- 
ment pass  along  with  it« —  but  insensibly,  and  in  the  second  place, 
not  the  first,  as  a  sort  of  companion  and  clue,  not  as  an  abstract 
law-giver  —  that  the  critic  will  generally  do  most  good  to  his 
readers.  Sometimes,  no  doubt,  for  the  sake  of  establishing  an 
author's  place  in  literature,  and  his  relation  to  a  central  standard 
(and  if  this  is  not  done,  how  are  we  to  get  at  our  best  in  the 
world?)  criticism  may  have  to  deal  with  a  subject-matter  so  fa- 
miliar that  fresh  knowledge  is  out  of  the  question,  and  then  it 
must  be  all  judgment;  an  enunciation  and  detailed  application 
of  principles.  Here  the  great  safeguard  is  never  to  let  oneself 
become  abstract,  always  to  retain  an  intimate  and  lively  con- 
sciousness of  the  truth  of  what  one  is  saying,  and,  the  moment 
this  fails  us,  to  be  sure  that  something  is  wrong.  Still,  under 
all  circumstances,  this  mere  judgment  and  application  of  princi- 
ples is,  in  itself,  not  the  most  satisfactory  work  to  the  critic ; 
like  mathematics,  it  is  tautological,  and  cannot  well  give  us,  like 
fresh  learning  the  sense  of  creative  activity.  I  am  bound  by  my 
own  definition  of  criticism :  a  disinterested  endeavor  to  learn  and 
pro'pagate  the  best  that  is  known  and  thought  in  the  world.  How 
much  of  current  English  literature  comes  into  this  "  best  that  is 
known  and  thought  in  the  world  ? '  Not  very  much,  I  fear : 
certainly  less  at  this  moment  than  of  the  current  literature  of 
France  or  Germany.  Well,  then,  am  I  to  alter  my  definition  of 
criticism,  in  order  to  meet  the  requirements  of  a  number  of 
practicing  English  critics,  who,  after  all,  are  free  in  their  choice 
of  a  business?  That  would  be  making  criticism  lend  itself  just 
to  one  of  those  alien  practical  considerations,  which,  I  have  said, 
are  so  fatal  to  it.  One  may  say,  indeed,  to  those  who  have  to 
deal  with  the  mass  —  so  much  better  disregarded  —  of  current 
English  literature,  that  they  may  at  all  events  endeavor,  in  dealing 
with  this,  to  try  it,  so  far  as  they  can,  by  the  standard  of  the 
best  that  is  known  and  thought  in  the  world;  one  may  say,  that 
to  get  anywhere  near  this  standard,  every  critic  should  try  and 
possess  one  great  literature,  at  least,  besides  his  own ;  and  the 
more  unlike  his  own,  the  better.  But  after  all,  the  criticism  I 
am  really  concerned  with- — the  criticism  which  alone  can  much 


ARNOLD  O.V  CRITICISM  ss, 

help  us  for  the  future,  the  criticism  which,  throughout  Europe, 
is  at  the  present  day  meant,  when  so  much  stress  is  laid  on 
the  importance  of  criticism  and  the  critical  spirit  —  is  a  criticism 
which  regards  Europe  as  being,  for  intellectual  and  spiritual 
purposes,  one  great  confederation,  bound  to  a  joint  action  and 
working  to  a  common  result ;  and  whose  members  have,  for  their 
proper  outfit,  a  knowledge  of  Greek,  Roman,  and  Eastern  an- 
tiquity, and  of  one  another.  Special,  local,  and  temporary  ad- 
vantages being  put  out  of  account,  that  modern  nation  will  in 
the  intellectual  and  spiritual  sphere  make  most  progress,  which 
most  thoroughly  carries  out  this  program.  And  what  is  that  but 
saying  that  we  too,  all  of  us,  as  individuals,  the  more  thoroughly 
we  carry  it  out,  shall  make  the  more  progress?  There  is  so 
much  inviting  us !  —  what  are  we  to  take,  what  will  nourish  us 
in  growth  towards  perfection?  That  is  the  question  which, 
with  the  immense  field  of  life  and  of  literature  lying  before  him. 
the  critic  has  to  answer;  for  himself  first,  and  afterwards  for 
others.  I  conclude  with  what  I  said  at  the  beginning:  to  have 
the  sense  of  creative  activity  is  the  great  happiness  and  the  great 
proof  of  being  alive,  and  it  is  not  denied  to  criticism  to  have 
it;  but  then,  criticism  must  be  sincere,  simple,  flexible,  ardent, 
ever  widening  its  knowledge.  Then  it  may  have,  in  no  con- 
temptible measure,  a  joyful  sense  of  creative  activity ;  a  sense 
which  a  man  of  insight  and  conscience  will  prefer  to  what  he 
might  derive  from  a  poor,  starved,  fragmentary,  inadequate  cre- 
ation. And,  at  some  epochs,  no  other  creation  is  possible.  Still, 
in  full  measure,  the  sense  of  creative  activity  belongs  only  to 
genuine  creation ;  in  literature  we  must  never  forget  that.  But 
what  true  man  of  letters  ever  can  forget  it?  It  is  no  such 
common  matter  for  a  gifted  nature  to  come  into  possession  of  a 
current  of  true  and  living  ideas,  and  to  produce  amidst  the  in- 
spiration of  them,  that  we  are  likely  to  underrate  it.  The  epochs 
of  yEschylus  and  Shakespeare  make  us  feel  their  pre-eminence. 
In  an  epoch  like  those  is,  no  doubt,  the  true  life  of  literature; 
there  is  the  promised  land,  towards  which  criticism  can  only 
beckon.  That  promised  land  it  will  not  be  ours  to  enter,  and 
we  shall  die  in  the  wilderness :  but  to  have  desired  to  enter  it,  to 
have  saluted  it  from  afar,  is  already,  perhaps,  the  best  distinction 
among  contemporaries ;  it  will  certainly  be  the  best  title  to  esteem 
with  posterity." 


APPENDIX     I. 

WORKS  USED  IN  THE  COMPILATION  OF  THIS  HANDBOOK 
SELECT    CRITICISM 

Aristotle   Rhetoric  and  Poetics. 

A^arias,    Brother Philosophy  of  Literature.  • 

An'.old,    Matthew Essays  in  Criticism. 

Ba^ehot,    Walter Literary  Studies. 

Boyesen,  Hjalmar  Hjorth Literary  Criticism. 

Bates,    Arlo Talks  on  Literature.  v 

Bosanquet,  Bernard History  of  ^Esthetics, 

Brink,  Bernard  Egidius  Ten Literary  Elements. 

Brooke,    Stopford English  Literature. 

Blair,   Hugh Rhetoric, 

Brunetiere,    Ferdinand History  and  Literature. 

Burke,    Edmund The  Sublime  and  Beautiful. 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor Biographia  Literaria. 

Cook,   Albert   Samuel Art  of  Poetry. 

Corson,    Hiram Aims  of  Literary  Study,  i 

Crashaw,   William/ Henry Interpretation  of  Literature. 

Courthope,  William- John Life  in  Poetry. 

De  Quincey,  Thomas Essays  on  Style  and  Language. 

Dryden,   John Essays  on  Dramatic  Poetry. 

Dowden,   Edward Studies  in  Literature. 

Emerson,   Ralph   Waldo    Thoughts  on  Modern  Literature, 

Gibbon,   Edward Essay  on  Study  of  Literature. 

Goethe,  Johann  Wolfgang  von Art   and   Nature. 

Horace     Art  and  Poetry. 

Hartmann,    Ernest   von Theory  of  Aesthetics. 

Higginson,  Thomas  Wentworth Literature  as  an  Art. 

Hunt,   Theodore   William Studies  in  Literature  and  Style. 

Hazlitt,    William    Dramatic    Literature. 

Jordan,  Alfred    Literature  and  Science. 

Kingsley,    Charles    Literary  Lectures. 

Kames,   Lord    Elements  of  Criticism. 

Lewes,  George  Henry    Success  in  Literature. 

Longinus The  Sublime. 

Lowell,  James  Russell    Literary  Criticism. 

Mabie,   Hamilton   Wright    Short  Studies  in  Literature. 

Macaulay,    Thomas    Babington Critical   Essays. 

Minto,    William    Manual  of  English  Prose. 

Moiilton,  Richard  Green  Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatic  Artist. 

Morley,   Henry    Manual  of  English  Literature. 

Miiller.  Max Science  of  Language. 

553 


554 


APPENDIX 


Newman,  John  Henry   Lecture  on  Literature. 

Fallen,  Conde  Benoist  Philosophy  of  Literature.  \s 

Pater,   Walter    Appreciations. 

Pope,   Alexander    Essay  in  Criticism. 

Quintilian     Institutes. 

Renton,   William    Logic  of  Style. 

Sainte-Beuve,   Charles   Augustin Theory  of  Literature. 

Sears,   Lorenzo    Principles  of  Literary  Criticism. 

Schopenhauer,   Arthur    Art  of  Literature. 

Sherman,  L.  A Analytics  of  Literature. 

Spencer,   Herbert    Philosophy  of  Style. 

Stae'l,  Madame  de   Literature  and  Society. 

Stevenson,  Robert  Louis    Essay  on  Style. 

Stedman,   Edmund   Clarence    Nature  and  Elements  of  Poetry. 

Symonds,  John  Addington  Essay  on  Literature. 

Taine,   Hippolyte  Adolphe    English  Literature. 

Warner,    Charles   Dudley    Literature  and  Life.  ^ 

Whitney,   William   Dwight Language    Study. 

Whitman,   Walt Poetry    of    the    Future. 

Winckelmann,   John    History  of  Ancient  Art. 

Wolff,    Eugene    Studies   of    Poetry. 

Wylie,  Laura  Johnson  Evolution    of    English    Criticism. 

Winchester,  Caleb  Thomas   Some    Principles    of    Literary    CritJ 

cism. 


APPENDIX  II 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  — SELECT  READING 
THE    LETTER 

Arnold,  Matthew    Letters,  I  Vol. 

Browning,    Elizabeth    Barrett    Letters,    2    Vols. 

Browning,    Robert    Letters,  2  Vols. 

Burke,   Edmund    Letters  on  a  Regicide  Peace. 

Bismarck,  Prince  Otto  von Letters  to  a  Noble  Lord. 

Bismarck,    Prince    Otto  von Love  Letters,  I  Vol. 

Carlyle,   Thomas    Letters,   2  Vols. 

Cicero    Letters,  I  Vol. 

Chesterfield,    Lord    .Letters  to  His  Son. 

Clifford,    Mrs.    William    Love  -Letters,  I  Vol. 

Fraser,   Mrs.   Henry    Letters  from  Japan. 

Gallienne.    Richard    Le Love  Letters  of  the  King. 

Guerin,  Eugenie  de Letters. 

Goldsmith,   Oliver    Letters  of  a  Nobleman. 

Hugo,    Victor    Letters,  I  Vol. 

"  Junius  " Letters. 

Kingsley,    Charles    Letters  and  Memoirs. 

Lang,   Andrew    Letters  to  Dead  Authors. 

Montagu,  Lady  Mary  Wortley Letters,  I  Vol. 

Newman,  John  Henry  Letters,  2  Vols. 


APPENDIX 

Nicoll,   William   Robertson    Letters    on    Life. 

Paul,    Saint    Letters. 

{liny    Letters. 

Swift,    Dean    Letters. 

Stevenson,  Robert  Louis  Letters,    2    Vols. 

Stowe,  Harriet   Beecher    Letters   and    Life. 

Schiller,  Johann  Friedrich  von Correspondence. 

Sevigne,    Madame    De Letters. 

Thaxter,    Celia    Letters. 

Walpole,   Horace    Letters,    4    Vqls. 

Webster,  Daniel   Letter  on  the  Impressment  of  Amer 
ican  Seamen. 
Wallace,    Henry    Letters  to  a  Tom   Boy. 


APPENDIX  III 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  — SELECT  READING 
THE    ESSAY 

Arnold,    Matthew    Essays    in    Criticism. 

Addison,  Joseph    The  Spectator. 

Barry,    William    Essays. 

Bacon,   Francis    Essays,  I  Vol. 

Browne,   Sir  Thomas    Essays  and  Reviews. 

Brownson,   Orestes    Essays  and  Reviews. 

Carlyle,  Thomas   Essays,  6  Vols. 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor  Essays. 

De  Quincey,    Thomas    Essays. 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo    Essays. 

Fairbairn,  Andrew   Martin   Essays    and    Reviews. 

Goldsmith,  Oliver  Citizen  of  the  World,  and  Miscel- 
laneous Essays. 

Hume,  David  Essays,  Literary,  Moral  and  Po- 
litical. 

Huxley,    Thomas    Essays.    4    Vols. 

Harrison,    Frederic    Essays. 

Hunt.    Leigh    The  "  Indicator." 

Hazlitt,  William  The  Round  Table  and  Political 

Essays. 

Jeffrey,    Francis    Critical  Essays  and  Reviews. 

Johnson,    Samuel     Lives  of  the  Poets. 

Lamb,    Charles    Essays   of   Elia. 

Lillv,  William  Samuel   Essays    Political    and    Moral. 

Locke,    John    Essays  on  Human   Understanding. 

Lowell,  James  Russell  Among  My  Books,  etc.,  and  Reviews. 

Macaulay,    Thomas    Babington Essavs. 

Montaigne,    Michel    Eyquem   de Florios    Edition. 

Mivart,  St.  George   Essays  Critical  and  Scientific. 

Mabie,   Hamilton   Wright    Essays    and    Appreciations. 


556  APPENDIX 

Newman,    John    Henry Essays   Critical   and  Historical;    Es- 
says on  Miracles. 

Pater,  Walter   Appreciations. 

Repplier,  Agnes   Essays. 

Ruskin,    John    Modern  Painters. 

Spencer,  Herbert   Philosophy  of  Style. 

Saintsbury,   George    French  Novelists. 

Stephen,    Leslie    Hours  in  a  Library. 

Spalding,  John  Lancaster Opportunity,  and  Other   Essays. 

Smith,    Sydney    Essays  and  Reviews. 

Swift,  Jonathan   Battle  of  the  Books. 


APPENDIX  IV 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  — SELECT  READING 
BIOGRAPHY 

Austin,  George  Lancaster Life  of  Wendell  Phillips. 

Barrows,   John   Henry Life  of  Beecher. 

Boswell,  James   Life  of  Johnson. 

Butler,    Arthur    John Life  of  Dante. 

Carlyle,  Thomas  Biographical   Essays. 

Cavendish,  George  Life  of  Wolsey. 

Century  Company    Dictionary,   Proper  Names. 

Chateaubriand,  Frangois  Rene, 

Vicomte   de Memoirs. 

Cross,   John    Walter Life  of  George  Eliot. 

Cooper,  Thomas Biographical  Dictionary. 

Farrar,  Frederick  William Life  of  St.   Paul. 

Fields,  James  Thomas Biographical    Sketches. 

Fronde,   James  Anthony Life  of  Carlyle. 

Geike,  Cunningham   Life  of  Christ. 

Gibbon,  Edward   Memoirs. 

Hale,  Edward  Everett Life  of  Lowell. 

Hewlett,  Maurice  . . .  / Life  of  Richard  Yea  and  Nay. 

Hudson,    Henry    Life  of  Shakespeare. 

Huxley,  Leonard    Life  of  Thomas  Henry  Huxley. 

Jesse,   John   Heneage Memoirs  of  the  English  Court. 

Lang,  Andrew Life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots. 

Morley,  John  Life  of  William   Ewart   Gladstone. 

Newman,  John   Henry Apologia  Pro  Vita  Sua. 

Purcell,  Edmund  Sheridan Life  of  Cardinal  Manning. 

Plutarch     Biogranhical   Essays. 

Renan,  Ernest .  Recollections  of  Childhood. 

Raleigh,   Walter   Sir Life  of  Milton. 

Roche,  James  Jeffrey Life  of  "Royle  O'Reilly. 

Sanborn,   Francis   Benson T.jfe  of  Emerson. 

Talleyrand,  Charles  Maurice  de Memoirs   of   Naooleon. 

Tennyson,  Hallam   Memoir  of  Tennvson. 

Tyler,  Moses  Coit Life  of  Patrick  Henry. 

Warner,  Charles  Dudley Life  of  Cromwell. 


APPENDIX  557 

Watson,  John   Life  of  The  Master. 

Ward,  Adolphus   William    Life  of  Charles  Dickens. 

American  Men  of  Letters Series. 

English   Men  of  Letters Series. 

Famous  Women  of  the  French  CourtSeries. 

Foreign    Statesmen    Series. 

Franklin    Series   of   Biography 

Great    Commander    Series. 

Public   Men  of  To-day Series. 

Saintly    Lives    Series. 

Women  of  Colonial  Times Series. 

World's    Epoch    Makers Series. 


APPENDIX  V 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  — SELECT  READING 
HISTORY 


Acton,  Lord Historical  Lectures. 

Bancroft,  George   History   of  the  United    States. 

Buckle,    Henry    Thomas History    of    Civilization. 

Beers,    Henry   Augustin    English    Romanticism. 

Courthope,   William  John...>> History  of   English    Poetry. 

Cheney,  Mrs.  Emma    The  Civil   War. 

Donaldson,  James    History  of  Education. 

Farrar,  Frederick  William   History  of  Interpretation. 

Freeman,  Edward  Augustus    The  Norman  Conquest. 

Fischer,   George    History  of  the  Reformation. 

Froude,  James  Anthony   History  of  England. 

Fay,   Theodore    History  of  Germany. 

Gardiner,   Samuel  Rawson   History   of   England. 

Gibbon,   Edward    Roman  Empire. 

Guizot,   Francois    History  of  Civilization. 

Grote,    George    History  of  Greece. 

Hartmann,  Sadakichi    American  Art. 

Harnack,   Adolf   History  of  Dogma. 

Hume,   David History  of  England. 

Janssen,    John    German   People. 

Irving,    Washington     The  Conquest  of  Granada. 

Lodge,  Henry  Cabot  American    Colonies. 

Livy    History   of  Rome. 

Lecky,  Wm.  E.  H European    Morals. 

Lea,   Charles  Henry    Spanish  Inquisition. 

Lingard,    John    History  of  England. 

Mahaffy,  John  P Greek  Literature. 

Maitland,    Samuel   Roffey   Dark  Ages. 

Macaulay,    Lord    History  of  England. 

Merivale.    Charles    History  of  the  Romans. 

Motley,  John   Lothrop   The  Dutch  Republic. 


558  APPENDIX 

Milman,  Henry  Hart    Latin    Christianity. 

MacMaster,  John  Bach    United  States,  History  of 

McCarthy,    Justin    Our    Own    Times,    History    of 

Mommsen,   Theodor    Roman   History. 

Newman,  John  Henry   Historical  Sketches. 

Napier,   Sir  William    The    Peninsular    War. 

Niebuhr,  Barthold   Georg   Roman  History. 

Painter,   Franklin  Verzelius  Newton. History  of    Education. 

Parkman,   Francis    Pioneers  of  North  America. 

Prescott,  William  Hickling The  Conquest  of  Mexico. 

Prior,    Edward     Gothic    Art. 

Roosevelt,    Theodore    Naval   War  of   1812. 

Schlegel,    Frederick    Modern    Europe. 

Schwill,    Ferdinand    Philosophy  of  History. 

Saintsbury,    George     History  of  Criticism. 

Tarbell,    Frank    Bigelow    History  of  Greek  Art. 

Taine,  Hippolyte  Adolphe The  French   Revolution. 

Van    Dyke,  John    History  of  Painting. 

Watson,   Thomas    History  of  France. 

Wilson,  Woodrow    History  of  American  People. 


APPENDIX.  VI 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  — SELECT  READING 
THE    ORATION 

^S 

Adams,    John    Speeches. 

Beecher,  Henry  Ward   Speeches    and    Lectures. 

Bossuet,   Jacques    Funeral  Orations. 

Bourdaloue,    Louis     Sermons. 

Brougham,    Lord    Orations. 

Burke,    Edmund     Speeches. 

Chatham,    Lord     Speeches. 

Choate,    Rufus     Addresses. 

Chrysostom,    St.    John Homilies. 

Cicero     Against    Catiline. 

Clay,    Henry    Speeches. 

Curran,  John  Philpott    Addresses. 

Demosthenes     Against  Philip. 

Edwards,   Jonathan    Sermons. 

Erskine,    Lord    Defense  of  Gordon  and  Paine. 

Everett,    Edward    Plymouth  Addresses. 

Fenelon,    Archbishop    Sermons. 

Fox,    Charles    . Addresses. 

Farrar,    Frederick   William    Sermons. 

Gladstone,  William   Ewart   Speeches. 

Gough,    John    Bartholomew Temperance  Addresses. 

Grattan,    Henry    Speeches. 

Henry,   Patrick    Speeches. 


APPENDIX 

Jefferson,  Thomas   Orations. 

Lincoln,  Abraham    Gettysburg  Speech. 

Little,   Canon    Knox Sermons. 

Liddon,  Henry  Parry Sermons. 

Mirabeau,  Gabriel  Comte  de Orations. 

Alontalambert,  Comte  de Orations. 

Newman,  John   Henry Sermons  and  Lectures. 

O'Connell,    Daniel    Speeches. 

Pitt,   William    (The  Younger) Orations. 

Sheil.  Richard  Lalor Speeches. 

Sheridan,   Richard   Brinsley Speeches. 

Stanley,   Lord    Lectures  and  Addresses. 

Wesley,   John    Addresses. 

WTalpole,  Horace Speeches. 

Webster,  Daniel   Orations. 

CONTEMPORARY    ORATORS 

Bryan,   William   Jennings Dolliver.   Senator. 

Castelar,    Emilio    Finerty,  John. 

Cockran,  William  Bourke Augustino,  Fra. 

Hillis,   Newell   Dwight, Morley.  John. 

Hirsch,  Rabbi    Didon".  Pere. 

Ireland,  John  Redmond,  John. 

Little,  Canon  Knox Roosevelt,  Theodore. 

Choate,  Joseph  H Spalding,   John    Lancaster. 

Biilow,  Count  von Harper,  William  Rainey. 


APPENDIX  VII 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  — SELECT  READING 

FICTION 

Allen.   Grant    Tents   of   Shem. 

Alcott,    Louisa    May    Little  Women. 

Austen,    Jane    Pride   and    Prejudice. 

Barry.    William     New    Antigone. 

Barne,   James    Matthew    The    Little    Minister. 

Balzac,    Honore    de A  Lily  of  the  Valley. 

Beaconsfield,    Lord    Vivian  Grey. 

Black.    William     In  Silk  Attire. 

Bjornson,    Bjornstjerne    The  Fisher  Maiden. 

Blackmore,    Richard    Doddridge Lorna  Doone. 

Boccaccio    Decameron. 

Bronte,   Charlotte    Tane  Eyre. 

Cable,   George   Washington  • Old  Creole  Days. 

Caine,    Hall    The  Christian. 

Cervantes     Don    Quixote. 

Cooper,  James  Fennimore   Leather  Stocking  Tales. 


559 


APPENDIX 

Corelli,    Marie    Wormwood. 

Crawford,   Marion Saracinesca. 

Croly,    George Tarry  Thou  Till  I  Come. 

Defoe,    Daniel    Robinson  Crusoe. 

Daudet,    Alphonse    : Little   Masterpieces. 

Dickens,   Charles    Pickwick    Papers. 

Doyle,    Conan     Hound  of  the   Baskervilles. 

Dumas,    Alexandre    Monte  Cristo,  The  Count  of. 

Edgeworth,    Maria    Castle  Rack  Rent. 

Eggleston,   Edward    The  Graysons. 

Eliot,    George    Romola. 

Fielding,    Henry     Tom    Jones. 

Frederic,  Harold  The  Damnation  of  Theron  Ware. 

Goldsmith,    Oliver    Vicar   of    Wakefield. 

Hawthorne,    Nathaniel    The  Scarlet  Letter. 

Haggard,    Rider    Montezuma's   Daughter. 

Hugo,   Victor    Les  Miserables. 

Ingelow,   Jean    John  Jerome. 

Hart,  Francis  Bret Ward  of  the  Golden  Gate. 

Howells,  William  Dean  World  of  Chance. 

James,  Henry    The   Ambassadors. 

Jerome,  Jerome  Klapka John    Ingerfield. 

Kingsley,    Charles    Hypatia. 

Kipling,    Rudyard    The    Light    That    Failed. 

Landor,   Walter    Savage    Pericles  and  A^spasia. 

Lang,    Andrew    Gold  of  Fairnilee. 

Lever,    Charles    Charles  O'Malley. 

Lytton,  Lord    Last   Days   of   Pompeii. 

McCarthy,  Justin  Huntley    If    I    Were    King. 

MacLaren,   Ian    Beside   The   Bonnie    Brier   Bush. 

Malet,  Lucas    . Sir  Richard  Calmady. 

Mallock,  William  Hurrell   The  Old  Order  Changeth. 

Meredith,  George   Diana   of   the    Crossways. 

Moore,    George     A   Mummer's  Wife. 

Oliphant,  Mrs  Margaret    A    Beleagured    City. 

Parker,    Gilbert    Seats  of  the  Mighty. 

Phelps,    Elizabeth    Stuart Gates    Ajar. 

Rabelais,  Francois    Pantagruel. 

Richardson,    Samuel    Pamela. 

Rives,  Amelie   The  Quick  or  the  Dead. 

Schreiner,  Olive   Story  of  an  African  Farm. 

Scott,    Walter    Waverly  Novels. 

Sienkiewicz,    Henryk    Quo  Vadis. 

Stevenson,  Robert  Louis  Dr.  Jeykel  and  Mr.  Hyde. 

Smollett,    Tobias    Humphrey  Clinker. 

Sterne,    Laurence     Tristram    Shandy. 

Stowe,  Harriet  Beecher  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

Thackerey,   William    Makepeace Vanity  Fair. 

Trollope,    Anthony    Orley  Farm. 

Tolstoi,    Count    Leo War  and  Peace. 

Turgenev,    Ivan .Rudin. 

Twain,  Mark Prince   and   Pauper. 

Ward,  Mrs  Humphrey .  Robert  Elsmere. 

Wallace,  General  Lew    .  . . . Ben  Hur. 

Wharton,   Edith    ... Valley  of  Decision. 


56. 


APPENDIX 

Weyman,    Stanley    Castle  Inn. 

Wiggin,  Kate  Douglas  Timothy's  Quest. 

Wister,  Owen   The  Virginian. 

Westcott,  Edward  Noyes David  Harum. 

Zangwill,    Israel    Children  of  the  Ghetto. 

Zola,  Emile    Rome    and    Paris. 


APPENDIX  VIII 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  — SELECT  READING 

THE    DRAMA 

Beaumont  &  Fletcher  Philaster. 

Byron,    Lord    Manfred. 

Browning,   Robert    Pippa  Passes. 

Congreve,   William . Love  for  Love. 

Dryden,  John    Spanish  Friar. 

Euripides    Tragedies. 

yEschylus    Tragedies. 

Ford,  John  The  Broken  Heart. 

Goethe,   Johann    Wolfgang  von Faust. 

Goldsmith,   Oliver    She  Stoops  to  Conquer. 

Howells,  William  Dean  Out  of  the  Question. 

Ibsen,    Henrik    Ghosts. 

Jonson,  Ben  Masques. 

Longfellow,    Henry   Wadsworth Christus. 

Moliere,  Jean  Baptiste  Comedies. 

Marlowe,  Christopher  Tamburlaine. 

Massinger,    Philip    The  New  Way  to  Pay  Old  Debts. 

Milton,  John   Samson  Agonistes. 

Phillips,   Stephen    Herod. 

Racine,    Jean    Baptiste Tragedies. 

Shakespeare,  William   Greater  Tragedies. 

Sophocles    .Tragedies. 

Schiller,  Johann    Friedrich   von William  Tell. 

Sheridan,   Richard    Brinsley The  Rivals. 

Shelley,   Percy  Bysshe    Prometheus   Unbound. 

Swinburne,  Charles  Algernon Atalanta  in  Calydon. 

Symonds,  John  Addington Francesca  Da  Rimini (  a  translation). 

Shaw,  Bernard    Plays  for  Puritans. 

Stevenson,  Robert  Louis  Deacon  Brodie. 

Strong,  L.  C.   (editor)    Stage  Lovers'  Series. 

Siidermann,    Hermann    The  Joy  of  Living. 

Terence     Comedies. 

Tennyson,   Alfred,  Lord Becker. 

Tolstoi,  Count  Leo   The  Resurrection. 

Udall,    Nicholas    Ralph  Roister  Doister. 

Upton,   George    Standard  Operas. 

Webster,  John   The   Duchess   of   Malfi. 

Wagner,  Wilhelm  Richard Valkyrie,  and    Parsifal. 


562  APPENDIX 


APPENDIX  IX 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  — SELECT  READING 
THE    EPIC 

Arnold,  Edwin   The  Light  of  Asia. 

Arnold,   Edwin    Light  of  the  World. 

Arnold,  Matthew   Sohrab  and  Rustum. 

Ariosto,  Ludovico   Orlando  Furioso. 

Barham,   Alfred    Nibelungen  Lied  (Translation) . 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett   Aurora   Leigh. 

Browning,   Robert    The  Ring  and  the  Book. 

Byron,   Lord    Childe  Harold. 

Camoens,  Luis  de The  Lusiad. 

Campbell,  Thomas   Gertrude  of  Wyoming. 

Chapman,  George  Homer    (Translation) . 

Crawford,  John    The    Kalevala     (Translation). 

Dante    The  Divine  Comedy. 

Dryden,  John  Hind    and    Panther. 

Eliot,  George Legend  of  Jubal. 

Fairfax,    Sir   Edward    Jerusalem  Delivered. 

Griffith,  Robert   Ramayana    (Translation). 

Goldsmith,    Oliver    The  Deserted  Village. 

Hall,   John  Leslie    Beowulf   (Translation). 

Homer The    Iliad,    and    the    Odyssey. 

Kloostock,  Friedrich  Gottlieb The  Messiad. 

Longfellow,    Henry   Wadsworth Evangeline,    and    Hiawatha. 

Lowell,  James  Russell   The   Vision    of   Sir   Launfal. 

Milton,   John    Paradise    Lost,    and     Paradise     Re- 
gained. 

Moore,  Thomas    . , Lalla  Rookh. 

Montgomery,  Robert Omnipresence  of  Deity. 

O'Hagan,    John Song  of  Roland  (Translation). 

Ormsby,    John    The    Cid    (Translation) . 

Pope,   Alexander    Homer   (Translation) . 

Roy,    Chandra     Maha-bharata    (Translation). 

Scott,   Sir  Walter    The  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

Spenser,  Edmund  Fairie  Queen. 

Tasso,  Torquato   Jerusalem  Delivered. 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  Lord Idylls  of  the  King,  and  The  Princess. 

Virgil     Aeneid. 

Wilkinson,  Richard  Cleaver Saul. 

Wordsworth,   William    The  Excursion, 


APPENDIX  563 


APPENDIX  X 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  — SELECT  READING 
THE    LYRIC 

Arnold,  Matthew    Lyrics. 

Austin,    Alfred    Lyrics. 

Aldrich,  Thomas   Bailey    Later    Lyrics. 

Burns,    Robert    Lyrics. 

Browning,  Robert Lyrics. 

Bryant,  William  Cullen   Thanatopsis,    Waterfowl,    and    other 

Lyrics. 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett Sonnets. 

Byron,  Lord   Lyrics. 

Campbell,  Thomas  Lyrics. 

Dryden,  John    St.  Cecilia's  Day. 

Emerson,   Ralph  Waldo Threnody. 

Eean,    Maurice   Francis Sonnets. 

Field,  Eugene   Songs,  and  Other  Verse. 

Goldsmith,   Oliver    The  Traveler. 

Golden   Treasury    American  Songs  and  Lyrics. 

Guiney,  Louise  Imogen   Lyrics. 

Gray,  Thomas   Elegies  and  Odes. 

Gilder,  Richard  Watson    Sonnets. 

Goethe,  Johann  Wolfgang  von Lyrics. 

Holmes,   Oliver   Wendell    The  Last  Leaf. 

Henley,  William  Ernest  Hawthorn  and  Lavender. 

Herbert,    George    Religious   Hymns. 

Horace    Odes,  and   Lyrics. 

Heine,  Heinrich    Lyrics. 

Keats,    John    Odes,  and  Sonnets. 

Keble,  John   The  Christian  Year. 

Kipling,    Rudyard    The  Recessional. 

Longfellow,   Henry   Wadsworth Lyrics. 

Lowell,  James  Russell Commemorative  Odes. 

Lanier,   Sidney    Songs,  and  Lyrics. 

_Moore,  Thomas    Irish   Melodies. 

%  Milton,  John   Lycidas,  and  Sonnets. 

"Mackay,   Eric    Lyric  Love  Letters. 

Meynell,    Alice    Lyrics 

Newman,  John  Henry   Lead  Kindly  Light 

O'Reilly,  John   Boyle Landing  of  the  Pilgrims. 

Poe,  Edgar  Allen   The    Bells,   Raven,    etc. 

Pindar    Lvncs™ 

Riley,  James  Whitcomb  Pipes  C 

Rossetti,  Dante  Gabriel   Sonnets  and  Lyrics. 

Sappho    Lyrics. 

Swinburne,   Algernon    Charles Songs  of  North  Sea. 

Stedman,  Edmund  Clarence  Mater  Coronata. 


564  APPENDIX 

Shelley,   Percy  Bysshe Skylark,   Cloud,  etc. 

Shakespeare,  William   Lyrics. 

Spenser,  Edmund  Epithalamium. 

Spalding,  John  Lancaster Poet's  Praise. 

Schiller,   Johann    Friedrich   von Lyrics. 

Tennyson,  Alfred   Lyrics. 

Tabb,    John    Batholomew Sonnets. 

Wilcox,    Ella  Wheeler Poems  of  Passion. 

Wordsworth,  William  Sonnets,  and  Odes. 

Whittier,   John   Greenleaf Lyrics. 


INDEX 


Abbot  of  Croyland,  202. 

A'Becket,  St.  Thomas,  334. 

Abelard,  72. 

Act  in  the  Drama,  413 ;  the  ist  func- 
tion of,  414;  the  2nd,  414;  the  3rd, 
415;  the  4th,  416;  the  5th,  417. 

Action,  Divisions  of,  408 ;  meaning 
of,  404 ;  requirements  for,  405,  406, 
407. 

Adam,   origin    of   words,   9. 

Adam  Bede,  author  of,  380. 

Adams,  John  Quincy,  on  oratory, 
280. 

Addison,  Joseph,  155,  524;  elegant 
style,  98;  essayist,  175,  185;  essays 
of,  loo. 

Adjectives,  13. 

^neid,  498. 

^schines,  orator,  307. 

./Eschylus,  158,  297,  425,  441 ;  char- 
acters of,  428;  dramas  of,  5,  410; 
epochs  of,  551. 

jEsop,  memoirs,  166. 

Esthetic  Sense,  improvement  of 
the,  4;  its  practical  value,  6;  its 
primary  appeal  to  literary  art,  3; 
lines  of  development,  5 ;  ultimate 
judge  of  merit,  5;  a  universal  en- 
dowment, 4. 

Affinity  of  Literature  to  other  Fine 
Arts,  i. 

Ajax,  in  Sophocles,  430. 

Alciphron,  letters  of,  126. 

Alexander,  example  of  moral  sub- 
lime, 57. 

Allen,  James  Lane,  idealistic  novel- 
ist, 352. 

Allibone,  criticism  on  Addison,  186. 

America,  romance  in,  343. 

Analogy,  in  argument,  279. 

Ancients,  method  of,  245. 

Anglo-Saxon,  chronicle,  202. 

"  Anna  Karenina,"  385. 

Anthon,  Charles,  criticism  on  P>n- 
dar,  534 ;  on  Plautus,  447 ;  on  Vir- 
gil, 560. 


565 


Antiquity,  advantage  of,  477. 

Apologia  of  Newman,  memoir,  165. 

Apology  of  Socrates,  memoir,   165. 

Arabic,  use  in  literature,  23. 

Aratus,  poet,  124. 

Arbaces,  350. 

Arbiter,  Petronius,  Roman  author, 
36i. 

Argument,  arrangement  of,  280; 
definition  of,  50;  demands  of,  275; 
in  composition,  47;  in  oration, 
274 ;  kinds  of,  276. 

Ariosto,  73;   romance,  335.- 

Aristophanes,  445 ;  errors  in  wit, 
76. 

Aristotle,  406;  dialogues  of,  158; 
on  drama,  404;  on  force,  43;  on 
oration,  265;  on  oratory,  290;  re- 
marks, i. 

Arius,  letter  of,  121. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  32,  99,  209; 
critic,  206;  criticism  on  Heine, 
540 ;  essay  in  criticism,  548 ;  es- 
sayist, 191;  letters  of,  112;  model 
on  paragraph,  39;  on  Lowell's 
allusions,  43;  on  the  letter,  108; 
on  the  novel,  354;  outlines  work, 

4i. 

Arnold,  Thomas,  214. 
Arrangement  of  words,  purpose  of, 

24. 
Art,   absence  of  in  morality   plays, 

436;  content,  61,  69. 
Art-Form,  elements  of,  7. 
Arthur.  King,  331. 
Arthurian  Cycle,  330. 
Artist,  Divine,  68;  human,  68. 
Artists,  Great,   lives  of,   12. 
Ashburton,  Lord,  letter  to,  116. 
Athenian  School  of  Oratory,  298. 
Attachment  to  Country,  71. 
Atterbury,  pamphlet,  172. 
Atticus,  134. 

Audubon,  life  of,  224:  memoirs,  166. 
Aurelius,  Emperor  Marcus,  135. 


566  INDEX 


Autobiography  of  Cicero.   131. 
Azarias,       Brother,      criticism      on 
Dante,  503. 

Bacchic  altar,  426. 

Bacchus,  425. 

Bacon,  Lord,  207,  253,  395 ;  essay- 
ist, 182 ;  on  oration,  263. 

Bain,  on  balanced  sentence,  28; 
rhetoric,  34,  74;  says,  59. 

Balance,  68. 

Baldwin,  rhetoric,  44. 

Bale,  John,  imitator,  210. 

Ballad,  The,  527;  content  of,  528. 

Balmez,  227. 

Bancroft,  George,  historian,  238, 
259,  260. 

Barren  Style,  93. 

Bascom,  on  subliniity,  52. 

Basil,  letters  of,  126. 

Basis,  of  feeling,  69;  of  humor,  77; 
of  melody,  80;  of  melody-words, 
81. 

Baskertsief,    Maria,  208. 

Bates,  Arlo,  on  application  of  argu- 
ment, 51 ;  says  of  clearness,  42. 

Battle  of  Waterloo,  369. 

Beauty,  definition  of,  61  ;  in  lit- 
erary art,  66;  of  form,  67. 

Bede,   Venerable,  writer,  252. 

Beecher,    Henry  Ward,  on  oratory, 

323- 

Bennett,  James  Gordon,  journalism, 
177. 

Benoit,  writer  of  romance,  336. 

Beowulf,  alliteration  carried  to  ex- 
cess, 82;  epic,  513. 

Berkeley,  Bishop,  dialogue-essay, 
158. 

Bernhardt,  Sara,  438. 

Bible,   sublime   passages   in,   60. 

Biblical  Essay,  definition,  153. 

Biographer,  166,  197,  198. 

Biographers,  examples  of,  214. 

Biographical  Matter,  classification 
of,  197. 

Biography,  108,  194;  class,  209; 
class,  sets  of,  211 ;  complete  clas- 
sification, 213  ;  definition  of,  193  ; 
kinds  of,  201 ;  minor  examples, 
224 ;  sources  of,  195. 

Biology,  193. 

Bjornson,  387. 

Black  Forest,  example  of  silence 
and  solitude,  56. 


Blair,  Dr.,  comparison  of  style. 
244;  criticism  on  Addison,  185; 
criticism  on  Cicero,  311  ;  criticism 
on  Demosthenes,  306 ;  criticism 
on  Horace,  536 ;  criticism  on  Pin- 
dar, 535 ;  criticism  of  Pliny  let- 
ters, 142;  criticism  on  Sophocles, 
444;  on  beauty,  62;  on  drama, 
426,  427;  on  ethical  purpose,  432; 
on  figures  of  speech,  45;  on  sub- 
limity, 52;  on  the  importance  of 
verbs,  12,  13;  style  in  history, 

239- 

Boaz,  field  of,  357. 

Boccaccio,  Italian  writer,  73,  366. 

Bolingbroke,  171,   172. 

Bollandists,    Society  of,   197. 

Book  of  Psalms,  71. 

Book  of  Wisdom,  epistle,  122. 

Books  of  Common  Prayer,  522. 

Bossuet,  Jacques  Benigne,  orator, 
302,  314;  sincerity  of,  46;  writings 
of,  66. 

Boswell,  James,  214,  215 ;  example 
of  narration,  50;  Life  of  Johnson, 
no. 

Bowdoin  College,  382. 

Breviaries,  Lyric,  520. 

Briefness  of  Lyric,  515. 

Bronte,  Miss,  379;  poetry  of,  380. 

Browning,  defines  love,  72 ;  errors 
of,  43 ;  obscurity  of,  43 ;  use  of 
foreign  words,  23. 

Bryan,  William  Jennings,  example, 
forcible  style,  95. 

Bryant,  preference  of  Saxon,  17. 

Buckle,   Henry,  historian,  257. 

Buffon,  saying  of,   103. 

Btmyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress,  340. 

Burke,  Edmund,  explains  effect  of 
the  sublime,  56;  model  of  argu- 
ment, 51  ;  on  beauty,  64;  on  pow- 
er of  sublime,  53 ;  orator,  316 ; 
pamphlet,  171 ;  philippics  of,  205 ; 
sincerity  of,  46 ;  use  of  periodic 
sentences,  26. 

Burroughs,  John,  memoirs,  166. 

Burrow,    biography,    224. 

Butler,  biography,  222. 

Butler.  Alban,  211. 

Butler's,   Bishop,   analogies,  280. 

Byron,  Lord,   172,  370;  Lyrics,  524. 

Caesar,  Julius,  219;  example  of  mo- 
ral sublime,  58;  oration,  295. 

Caine,  Hall,  use  of  love  letters,  120, 


Campbell,  on  force,  43. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  209;  criticism  on 
Dante,  502;  criticism  on  Goethe. 
449;  errors  of,  43;  essay,  175; 
essayist.  188;  force  of,  45; 
"  French  Revolution,"  101  ;  letters 
of,  112;  sublime  writer,  66. 

Catholic  Historians,  236. 

Cato,  tragedy  of,  151. 

Celt,  ballads  of  the,  529;  excels  in 
wit,  77. 

Celtic,  Anglicising  of,  23;  affected 
by  the  Latin,  15;  use  in  litera- 
ture, 23. 

Century  Company,  biography,  203. 

Century   Dictionary,    reference,    16. 

Century,  Nineteenth  (British),  sym- 
posium, 162. 

Cervantes,  model  in  wit  and  humor. 
76;  Spanish  writer,  364. 

Chamber's  Encyclopedia,  206. 

Chambers,  History  of  Stars,  225. 

Chancellor,  Beresford,  criticism  on 
Dickens,  375. 

Channing,  sublime  passages,  60. 

Character,  idealization  of,  351 ;  rev- 
elation of,  423. 

Characters  of  the  Drama,  419,  468; 
compared,  468;  the  chief,  422; 
subordinate,  423. 

Charlemagne,  of  romance,  338. 

Chartism,  387. 

Chaucer,  erotic  poet,  73 ;  force  of, 
44;  preference  of  Saxon,  17. 

Chesterfield,  Lord,  180 :  biographical 
data,  137 ;  charm  of  manner  of, 
138;  letters  of,  I37»  138. 

Chesterfield,  literary  work  of,   138. 

Chesterfield,  on  good  manners,  140. 

Chesterfield  urges  energy  and  appli- 
cation, 140. 

Chesterfield's  Letters,  literary  merit 
of,  141. 

Choate,  Rufus,  criticism  on  Web- 
ster, 320. 

Christ,  biography  of,  193;  life  of. 
250. 

Christian  Hymn  Books.  520. 

Christian  Year,  by  Keble,  345. 

Christianity,  origin  of,  250. 

Chrysostom,  Saint  John,  eulogy  on. 
204;  letters  of,  126. 

Cicero,  32.  313,  398:  as  a  writer, 
129;  career  of,  128:  character  of. 
131 ;  classic  representative  of  an- 


cient letter  writers,  128;  criticism 
of,  133;  De  Amicitia,  71;  epis- 
tolary style,  characteristics  of, 
132;  essayist,  179;  expressions, 
i ;  friendship  for  Atticus,  131  ; 
general  estimate  of,  128;  letters 
of,  in,  129,  130,  131  ;  melody,  83; 
model  of  argument,  51  ;  on  his- 
tory, 245;  on  oration,  273;  on 
style,  94;  orator,  265,  310;  us*  of 
periodic  sentences,  26. 

Cicero's  Letters,  literary  value,  132. 

Civil   War,   English,  252. 

Civil  War,  our  late,  109. 

Clarke,  Richard,  on  letters  of  Ix-o 
XIII.,  117. 

Classic  Cycles,  in   England,  336. 

Classification,  of  letters,  123;  of 
lyric,  518. 

Clearness,  errors  regarding,  42;  of 
composition,  41 ;  of  style,  86. 

Cleopatra,  72. 

Climax,  law  of,  281. 

Clytemnestra,  429. 

Cobbett,  William,  509. 

Cochran,  Bourke,  forcible  style,  95. 

Coherence,  of  paragraph,  34. 

Coleridge,  essay,  175;  on  Don 
Quixote,  366;  romance,  343. 

Coleridge,   Hartley,  imitator,  210. 

Color,  applied  to  words,  67;  source 
of  beauty,  62. 

Columbus.  208;  example  of  moral 
sublime,  58. 

Comedy,  424 ;  relation  to  wit,  79. 

Composition,  complete,  40;  kinds 
of,  47;  qualities  of  complete,  41. 

Concise  Style,  oo. 

Conclusion,  548. 

Conjunction,  cumulative.  37. 

Construction,  rules  of,  of  para- 
graph, 33. 

Corneille,  465. 

Correctness,  of  style,  85. 

Cosmopolitan  Spirit,  history,  238. 

"  Count  of  Monte  Cristo,"  369. 

Cowley.   151. 

Crawford.  Marion,  novels  of,  351 : 
use  of  love  letters,  120. 

Criticism.  550;  sources  of.  402. 

Critics.  Biographical.  206. 

Critique.  The.  205. 

Crusoe.  Robinson,  171. 

Cyropardia.  155:  of  Xenophon,  327. 
359 


568 


•INDEX 


Dana,  Charles  A.,  journalism,  177. 

Dante,  73,  502,  504,  511;  force  of, 
44. 

David,  platonic  love,  70. 

David's  sling,  77. 

Davidson,     William,     criticism     on 

.    "Job,"  439. 

Davis,  Richard  Harding,  news- 
letters, 114. 

Decameron,     The,     romance,      334, 

367-  .> 
Definition    of    epic,    dispute    as    to, 

470;  of  essay,   151. 
Deistic  School,   173. 
Demosthenes,  313;  orator,  299,  306; 

prose  of,  66 ;  sincerity  of,  46. 
De  Musset,  Alfred,  lyric  poet,  541. 
De  Quincey,  Thomas,  27,  102,  208; 

diffuse    style,    91  ;    on    defects    of 

long  sentence,  26;   on   essay,   152. 
Description,    Literary,   48;    meaning 

of,  48;   scientific,  48. 
Descriptive    composition,   47;    style, 

241. 
De  Sevigne,  Madame,  letter  writer, 

148. 
Design   in   Art,  65 ;   in   literary  art, 

66;  source  of  beauty,  65. 
Deuteronomy,  orations  in,  296. 
De  Vere,  Aubrey,  sonnets  of,  533. 
Dialogue,     155 ;    characteristics    of, 

409;   definition   of,    156;   e^say,   in 

English    literature,     158;.-  growth 

of,  427;  kinds  of,  157. 
Diatribe,   204. 

Dickens,  Charles,  novelist,  374,  376. 
Diderot,  173. 
Dido,  in  Virgil,  73. 
Diffuse  Style,  89. 
Dignified   Style,  96. 
Dilemma,    The,    argument,   277. 
Disraeli,  on  pamphlet,   167. 
Divisions  of  beauty,  61 ;  of  literary 

art,  108;  of  sonnet,  530. 
Documents,  collection  of,   196. 
Doll  House,  The,   drama,  438. 
Don   Quixote,  365,  366;   adventure, 

364;  comic  character,  79. 
Doumic,     Rene,     criticism     on     De 

Musset,   541  ;    criticism   on   Hugo. 

368;  criticism   on  Moliere,  456. 
Dowden,     Professor,     criticism     on 

Shelley,  543- 
Drama,  The,  definition,  404;   ethics 

of   modern,   437 ;    forms    of,   423 ; 


of  Job,   439;    religion   and   ethics 

of,  435- 

Dramatic  element,  in  fiction,  355. 
Dramatis  Personse,  of  Miss  Bronte, 

379- 

Dramatists,  465. 
Dryden,     John,     151;     critic,     206; 

memoir,    166;   sacred  music,   524; 

symposium,  161. 

Duke  of  Norfolk,  letter  to,  146. 
Dumas,   Alexander,    French    writer, 

369- 
Dunlop,  John,  criticism  by,  362. 

Earl    of    Clarendon,    historian,    252. 
Edinburgh  Review,  175. 
Edmund,  son  of  Gloster,  434. 
Egan,   Maurice  Francis,  sonnets  of, 

533- 

Elegance,  etymological  meaning, 
46;  scope  of,  46. 

Elegant  Style,  97. 

Elements  of  Art-Form,  7. 

Eliot,  George,  genius  of,  379;  ideal- 
istic novelist,  352;  model  on  para- 
graph, 39;  novelist,  377;  poetry 
of,  380;  symposium,  161. 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  203. 

"  Elsie  Venner,"   romance,  347. 

Emerson,  97 ;  errors  of,  43 ;  on  eulo- 
gy, 164;  words  illustrated  by,  7. 

Emotion,   in  oratory,  285. 

Emotional  Value,  of  lyric,  515;  of 
melody,  80. 

Emphasis,  places  of,  24. 

Empire,  Holy  Roman,  196. 

Encyclopedia   Brittannica,  205. 

England,  383;  Church  of,  170;  son- 
nets in,  531. 

English  Historians,  251. 

English  Hymns,  522. 

English    Literature,   eulogy   in,    163. 

English,  morality  play,  436. 

English  Romance,  335,  340;  sources 
of,  330. 

English  Sacred  Lyric,  523. 

English  Words,  French  and  Latin 
elements,  18;  native,  16;  sources 
of,  15 ;  their  universal  indebted- 
ness, 15;  value  of  Latin  element, 
19- 

Epic,  characteristics  of,  473;  close 
of,  480 ;  compared  with  drama, 
468;  heroes  of,  479;  in  the,  517; 
management  of  plan,  479;  moral 


INDEX 

value,  472 ;  origin  of,  466 ;  person- 
ages of,  481  ;  rank  of,  4/0;  super- 
natural personages,  482;  third 
property  of,  478 ;  types  of,  469. 

Epic  Action,  474 ;  interpretation  of. 
475;  time  of,  480;  unity  of,  477. 

Epic  Material,  dramatic  use  01,469. 

Episodes,  476. 

Essay,  165;  among  the  Greeks,  154; 
meaning  in  literature,  150;  mean- 
ing of,  150;  modern  use  of  word, 

151. 

Essayists,  English,  185;  representa- 
tive, number  of,  178. 

Ethical   Purpose,  extent  of,  433. 

Ethical    Side,  of  drama,  432. 

Eulogistic  Literature,  59. 

Eulogium,  162 ;  modern  use  of,  163. 

Eulogy,    155,   203,   204. 

Euphues,  romance,  341. 

Euripides,  444;  characters,  428; 
dramatist,  179. 

Europe,    Northern,    romance    from. 

337- 

Evadne,  in  Euripides,  430. 

Evolution  of  the  novel,  349. 

Example,  argument  from,  277;  fic- 
titious, 278. 

Exposition,  in  composition,  47; 
meaning  of,  47. 

Faber,  hymn  books,  523;  platonic 
love,  70. 

Facts,  grouping  of,  199;  minor 
ways  of  grouping,  200;  order  of 
place,  199. 

Farnsworth,  James,  criticism  on 
Dumas,  369. 

Falstaff,  comic  character,  79. 

Family  Relationship,  69. 

Feeling,  element  of  art-content,  69. 

Ferdinand,  history  of,  258. 

Fiction,   108,  340;  meaning  of,  327. 

Fielding,  386. 

Figure,  source  of  beauty,  62. 

Figures  of  Speech,  44. 

Fiske,  John,  criticism  of,  262;  his- 
torian, 261. 

Flaubert,  author,  369. 

Flexibility  of  Form,  of  lyric,  515. 

Flint,   Robert,  criticism  on   Buckle, 

257- 

Florence,  mystery  plays  at,  435. 
Force,  Basis  of.  44;  in  composition, 

43 


569 

Forcible  Style,  95. 

Forensic  Oratory,  293. 

Form,  source  of  beauty,  62;  source 

of  literary  beauty,  67. 
Foxe,  John,  211. 
Franklin,  memoirs,  209. 
Freeman's,   essay,   151;  history,  237. 
French  Academy,  206. 
French  Church,  middle  ages,  231. 
French    Element,    21  ;    on    English 

words,    18. 

French  History,  stylists  in,  248. 
French  Sources,  b. 
French    Words,    Domestication    of, 

21. 
Froude,    history,    237 ;    letters    of, 

no. 
Funeral  Oration  of  Bossuet,  315. 

Ga-elic    League,    The,    of    Ireland, 

529- 

Garnett,  criticism  on   Niebuhr,  247. 

Gaskell,  Mrs..  378. 

Genung,  Professor,  says  on  para- 
graph, 35. 

German  Historical  Society,  197. 

German  Sources,  b. 

Germans,    not    remarkable    for    wit, 

Germany,  550;   morality  plays,  436. 

Gibbon,  Edward,  example  of  nar- 
ration, 50;  historian,  241,  255; 
history,  236;  History  of  Rome, 
199;  use  of  long  words,  20. 

Gigot,  criticism  on  Book  of  Tobias, 


Gilder,  Richard  Watson,  sonnets  of, 

533- 

Gladstone,  William  E..  220.  223; 
criticism  on  Homer,  487 ;  his  per- 
sonality, 222. 

Goethe,  448,  504;  on  ideals,  354; 
platonic  love,  70. 

Golden  Ass,  The,  364. 

Gospel,   employs  figures  of  speech, 

44- 

Gothic  Cathedral  Illustrates,  2. 

Goths,  invasion  of,  58. 

Gould,  S.  Baring,  211. 

Grattan,    sublime   passages,  6a 

Greek  Democracy,  oratory,  207- 

Greek,   drama.  70,  410. 

Greek  Element,  names  used  in  sci- 
ence. 19;  use  in  literature,  23. 

Greek  Essay,  158. 


570 


INDEX 


Greek  Literature,  fiction  in,  359. 

Greek  Missals,  519. 

Greek  Tragedy,  429;   characters  of, 

428. 

Greeks,  principles  expressed,  i. 
Greeley,  Horace,  journalism,   177. 
Greenough,  on  loose   sentences,   27. 
Guizot,  249;  historian,  248. 

Habrocomes,  of  Xenophon,  359. 
Haggard,  Rider,  adventures  of,  346. 
Haigh,  ^A.  E.,  criticism  on  /Eschy- 

lu  5,441. 

Halifax,  Lord,  tracts,  170. 
Hallam,  Arthur,  71. 
Hallam,   Henry,   historian,   256. 
Hamlet,    example    of    feeling,    70; 

sublimity,  60. 

Hamlet's  Ghost,  example  of  ob- 
scurity, 55. 

Handbook  treats  literature,  a. 
Hardwicke,     Henry,     criticism     on 

Demosthenes,  308. 
Harmony,  68;  of  paragraph,  34;  of 

principles,  I. 

Harper's  Weekly,  letters  in,  114. 
Harris,  Russell,  letters  of,   114. 
Harrison,     Frederic,     criticism     on 

Macaulay,   254. 
Harvard  College,  258. 
Havelock,  romance,  338. 
Hawthorne,  381. 
Hay,  213. 

Heber's,  Bishop,  hymn  book,  523. 
Hebrew  Literature,  story  in,  356. 
Hebrew  People,  60. 
Hebrews,  oration,  295. 
Heine,  lyric  poet,  540. 
Helen,  in  Homer,  73. 
Heloise,  72. 
Henry,    Patrick,    example,    forcible 

style,  95 ;  sincerity  of,  46 ;  speech, 

1 02,  279. 
Hereward,     the      Saxon     romance, 

333- 

Herodotus,  historian,   126. 

Hesiod,  eulogium,  162. 

Hill,  on  abuse  of  particles,  38. 

Historical  Composition,  literary 
style  in,  239. 

Historical  Facts,  methods  of  inter- 
preting, 233. 

Historical  Interpretation,  methods 
of,  235. 

Historical   Value  of  Letters,   109. 


History,  108;  art  as  a  factor  in,  226; 
art-content  of,  228;  difficult  spe- 
cies, 231 ;  factors  in  construction 
of,  226 ;  grouping  of  facts,  232 ; 
kinds  of,  230;  meaning  of  word, 
225;  method  of  writing,  231;  of 
the  letter,  121 ;  relation  to  other 
arts,  227. 

Hogarth,  definition,  63 ;  on  beauty, 
63- 

Holinshed,    chronicles    of,    202. 

Holy  City,  337. 

Holy  Writ,  70. 

Homer,  epic  poet,  487 ;  epics  of,  5 ; 
eulogium,  162;  his  own  witness, 
487;  poetry  of,  66;  relation  to 
Greek  poetry,  490;  relation  to  his- 
tory, 491  ;  relation  to  oratory, 
491  ;  relation  to  philosophy,  491  ; 
style,  489 ;  sublime  passages  of, 
56;  view  of,  488. 

Homeric  Morality,  494. 

Homeric  Theology,  493. 

Hook,  Walter  Farquhar,  211. 

Horace,  lyric  writer,  536;  platonic 
love,  70;  theme,  love,  73. 

Howells,  William  Dean,  realistic 
writer,  355 ;  use  of  love  letters, 

120. 

Hueffer,  F.,  criticism  on  Boccaccio 
366. 

Hugo,  Victor,  French  writer,  368; 
sublime  writer,  66. 

Hume,  David,  254 ;  historian,  241 ; 
History  of  Anglo-Saxons,  231 ; 
stylist,.  253. 

Humor,  in  art-content,  75;  in  fic- 
tion, 78. 

Hutton,  Richard  Holt,  141 ;  criti- 
cism on  Arnold,  192;  criticism  on 
George  Eliot,  377;  criticism  of 
Guizot,  249 ;  criticism  on  Scott, 
372. 

Huxley,  Life  of,  214;  monograph. 
156. 

Hymn  Books,  notable  compilations, 
522. 

Ibsen,    Henrik,    438,    452;    realistic 

writer,  355. 

Idealism,  indications  of,  351. 
Idealistic  Novel,  350. 
Idiomatic  Style,  91. 
Ignatius,  letters  of,   126. 
Imitators,   English,   210. 


INDEX 


Impassioned  Style,  101. 
Imperial  Academy  of  Vienna,  197. 
Importance  of  the  Letter,  109. 
Infinity,   as   source  of  the  sublime. 

Influences,  on  oratory,  289. 

Ingersoll,   Colonel,   oration,   291. 

Institutional  Life,  basis  of  civiliza- 
tion, 229;  unity  of,  230;  value  of. 
229. 

Intellectual  Style,  98. 

Intellectual  Sublime,  58. 

Irving,  383;  elegant  style,  98. 

Isabella,  history  of,  258. 

Italian,  ballads  of  the,  529 ;  romance. 
333J  use  in  literature,  23. 

Italy,  383;  morality  plays,  436. 

James,  Henry,  realistic  writer,  355; 
use  of  love  letters,  120. 

Janssen's  History  of  the  German 
People,  109,  238,  247. 

Jebb,  Prof.  R.  C.,  criticism  on  Aris- 
tophanes, 445 ;  criticism  on  Euri- 
pides, 444 ;  criticism  on  Homer. 
492;  on  Homer,  466. 

Jeffrey,  175. 

Jerusalem   Delivered,  epic,  513. 

Jesuits,  in  North  America,  261. 

Job's  Vision,  example  of  obscurity. 

55- 
Johnson,    Dr.    Samuel,    98;    eulogy, 

163;    example    of    narration,    50; 

imitator,    210;     use    of    balanced 

sentence,  28. 

Jonathan,  platonic  love,  70. 
Judicial     Style,    characteristics    of, 

292;  in  oration,  290. 
Junius,  105;  letters  of,   144;  satires 

of,  205. 

Kalevala,  epic,  513. 

Keats,   385. 

Keble,  letters  of.   no,   112. 

Keble's  Christian  Year,  71. 

Kinds  of  letters,  no;  of  style,  88. 

King  Alfred,  59. 

King  Lear,  434;  example  of  feel- 
ing, 70;  example  of  sublimity  in 
sound,  57. 

Kipling,  Rudyard,  347,  525;  novel- 
ist, 346. 

Knight,  chronicles  of.  202. 

Knowledge.  399. 


Labored  Style,  93. 

Lacordaire,  on  oration,  274. 

"  Lalla   Rookh,"  romance  of,  334. 

Lamb,  383;  essays  of,  100. 

Language,  described  by  Renan.  y; 
distinction  of,  392;  in  poetry,  389. 

Lanier,   Sidney,   remarked,  a. 

"  Last  Days  of  Pompeii,"  353. 

Latin  Element,  on  English  words, 
18;  value  of,  19. 

Latin  language,  an  element  in  con- 
struction, 15;  names  used  in  sci- 
ence, 19;  vehicle  of  civilization. 

Latins,  among  the,  361  ;  among  the 

drama,  446. 

Lea,  Charles  Henry,  historian,  23^. 
Lead     Kindly    Light,    example    of 

feeling,  74. 
Leader,  The,  literary  merit  of.  175; 

popularity  of,   177;  publication  of, 

175;  subjects  treated  in,  176. 
Lear,  sublimity,  60. 
Lessing,  describes  aesthetic  sense,  j ; 

on  drama,  404. 

Letter  in  Hebrew  literature,   121. 
Letter  of  friendship,  in. 
Letters  of  the  Church  Fathers,  126 
Lilly,    dialogue-essay,    158. 
Lincoln,  memoirs,  209. 
Lincoln,    President,    secretaries    of, 

109. 
Lindemann,    William,    criticism    on 

Goethe,  448;  criticism  on  Sudcr- 

mann,  454. 
Lines  of  beauty,  63. 
Lingard,  history,  237. 
Literary  Art  and  the  aesthetic  sense, 

3;    its    widest   appeal,    17;    Latin 

element    in,    20;    relationship    to 

science,   2,   3;    words    in    relation 

to,  7. 

Literary  examples,  74. 
Literary  Form  of  Job,  440. 
Literary  Style.  100. 
Literary  use  of  love  letters,  120. 
Literary  value  of  news-letters,  lift. 
Literature  as  a  fine  art,   I ;  of  the 

sublime,  60. 
Livy,   historian,    126;   oration,   295: 

style,  244 
Locke,  definition  of  wit.  75:  essay. 

'51 
Logic,  276. 


572 


INDEX 


London  Quarterly  Review,  criticism 
oh  Morley,  220. 

London  Times,  editorials  in,  176; 
letters  in,  114. 

Longfellow,  545;  lyric  poet,  544; 
preference  of  Saxon,  17;  sonnets 
of,  533- 

Longinns,  on  sublimity,  52. 

"  Looking  Backward,"  romance, 
347- 

Lord,  Angel  of  the,  67. 

Lord,  John,  211. 
.Love,  source  of  literature,  72. 

Love  Letters,   119. 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  97 ;  criticism 
on  Carlyle,  190;  criticism  on 
Shakespeare,  459 ;  obscure  liter- 
ary allusions,  43. 

Lucian,  dialogue-essay,  159. 

Luther,  Martin,  247,  521 ;  letters  of, 
no. 

Luxuriant  Style,  94. 

Lydgate,  translator,  336. 

Lyric,  in  Christian  Era,  519;  marks 
of,  515;  meaning  and  scope  of, 
514;  meter  and  style,  516;  rela- 
tion to  prose,  518;  suggestive- 
ness,  517;  the  heroic,  526. 

Lyric  Growth,  causes  of,  518. 

Lyric  Poets,  miscellaneous,  525. 

Lyric  and  Epic,  comparison  of,  467. 

Lytton,  Bulwer,  350,  352;  historical 
romance,  343. 

Mabie,  Hamilton  Wright,  general 
criticism,  385. 

Macaulay,  Lord,  32,  97,  255;  criti- 
cism on  Hallam,  256;  criticism  on 
Milton,  510;  essay,  175;  essayist, 
186 ;  eulogy,  163 ;  example  of  nar- 
ration, 50;  history,  237;  melody, 
83 ;  model  on  paragraph,  39 ; 
stylist,  254 ;  use  of  balanced  sen- 
tence, 28 ;  use  of  long  words,  20. 

Macbeth,  416,  418;  "Knocking  at 
the  Gate,"  example  of  sublimity 
in  sound,  57;  sublimity,  60. 

Maha-bharata,  epic,  513. 

Mahaffy,  Professor,  criticism  on 
Sophocles,  443, 

Mallock,   dialogue-essay,  158. 

Malory,  Sir  Thomas,  romance,  331. 

Man,  in  relation  to  society,  70. 

Manning,  Cardinal,  Life  of,  292. 

"Mar-Prelate  Tracts,"  169. 


Marsh,  explanation  of  use  of 
French  words,  21 ;  observations 
on  oldest  Latin,  19;  words  de- 
scribed by,  7. 

Marshall,  memoirs,   209. 

Material,  for  mystery  plays,  435. 

Mathews,  William,  criticism  on 
Bossuet,  315;  criticism  on  Web- 
ster, 321 ;  on  oratory,  289. 

Mead,  Professor,  25;  on  adjectives, 
13. 

Melody,  in  art-content,  80;  in  para- 
graph, 82;  in  thought,  82. 

Memoir,  155;  as  an  essay,  .165; 
basis  of,  166;  definition  of,  165. 

Memoirs,  253;  literary  value,  167; 
of  Gibbon,  165. 

Memorabilia,  of  Xenophon,  165. 

Messiad,   epic,  513. 

Meter  and  Imagery,  of  ballad,  528. 

Method,  of  paragraph  arrangement, 
35. 

Michelet,  Jules,  historian,  249. 

Middle  Ages,  257,  337. 

Muller,  Prof.  Max,  b. 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  observations  on 
apt  words  and  phrases,  10. 

Milman,  Dean,  criticism  on  Ma- 
caulay, 188. 

Milton,  John,  253,  511,  506;  epics  of, 
5;  essays  of,  170;  Paradise  Re- 
gained, 72 ;  preference  of  Saxon, 
17;  sublime  passages,  56,  60. 

Minto,  on  length  of  sentence,  25. 

Mirabeau,  orations,  266. 

"  Mr.  Dooley,"  wit  and  humor,  79. 

Mivart,  dialogue-essay,  158;  mono- 
graph, 156. 

Moliere,  456. 

Monograph,  155;  modern  use  of, 
156. 

Monologues,  409,  410. 

Montagu,  Lady  Mary,  letter  writer, 
148. 

Montague,  letters  of,  112. 

Montaigne,  essayist,  180. 

Montcalm,  history,  261. 

Moore,  Thomas,  lyrics  of,  524. 

Moralia,  opera,  179. 

Morality  in  Drama,  basis  of,  433. 

More,   Sir  Thomas,   pamphlets,   168. 

Morley,  John,  211,  212,  213,  220; 
criticism  on  Burke,  316;  says, 
117;  Life  of  Gladstone,  no;  on 
Montaigne,  181. 


INDEX 


573 


Morris,  William,  novelist,  346. 

Morse,  John  T.,  212. 

Moses,  orations  by,  296. 

Moulton,  Professor  Richard,  criti- 
cism by,  440;  criticism  on  Book 
of  Ruth,  357;  on  essay,  153;  on 
the  letter,  121. 

Movement,  narrative  style,  241 ; 
source  of  beauty,  63,  68. 

Napoleon,  documents,  196. 

Narration,  485;  definition  of,  49. 

Narrative  composition,  47;  style, 
240. 

Nation,  five-fold  life  of  a,  228. 

National  Biography,  201. 

National  Lyric,  525. 

Native  English  Words,  16. 

Naturalness,  of  style,  88. 

Nature,  animated  source  of  sub- 
lime, 57. 

Nelson,  Lord,  memoirs,  209. 

Nepos,  essayist,  179,  180. 

"  New  Antigone,"  351. 

Newman,  Cardinal,  32,  145,  345; 
criticism  by,  105,  126 ;  dialogue- 
essay,  159;  essay,  151;  letters  of, 
no;  model  on  paragraph,  39;  on 
oration,  274;  outlines  work,  41; 
platonic  love,  70;  says  of  Cicero, 
129;  sublimity,  60;  tracts  of, 
168. 

Niagara,  68. 

Nibelungenlied,  epic,  513;  romance, 

337- 

Nicolay,  213. 

Niebuhr,  history,  245;  influence  of, 
246. 

Nightingale,   Florence,  59. 

Norman  Conquest,  22. 

Norman  trouveres,  435. 

Notre  Dame,  369. 

Nouns,  selection  of,  IT. 

Novel,  meaning  of  the,  348;  realis- 
tic, 353 ;  relation  to  romance,  349. 

Nye,  William,  wit  and  humor,  79. 

O'Connell,  Daniel,  wit,  76. 

O'Connor,  F.,  criticism  on  Bossuet, 
316. 

O'Conor,  Rev.  J.,  criticism  on  Cic- 
ero, 310. 

Obituary,  201. 

Obscurity,  as  source  of  the  sub- 
lime, 55. 


Occasion   for  open  letter,  118. 

Onias,  letter  to,  121. 

Open  letter,  118. 

Oration,    263;    estimates    of,    322; 

history  of,  295;   in  England,  .303; 

plan  of,  208;  style  in,  282. 
Orator,  qualities   required   for,  266. 
Oratorical  Growth,  303. 
Orators,   representative,  306. 
Oratory,  compared  with  essay,  264; 

future  of,  304;  modern,  301. 
Origin,  of  ballad,  528. 
Othello,  sublimity,  60. 
Outlaw,  The,  romance,  333. 
Outline,  method  of,  41. 
Outlook,  The,  in  drama,  438. 
Ovid,  theme,  love,  73. 
Oxford  Movement,  173;  letters  on, 

no. 

Pagan   Standard,   low,  434. 

Paine,  Tom,  173. 

Painted    Picture,    relation   to  scene, 

412. 

"  Pamela,"  385. 

Pamphlet,  a  special  pleader.  167. 
Pamphlets,  of    i8th    century,    171. 
Paradise  Lost,  508. 
Paragraph,   33 ;   connection   of  sen- 
tences   in.    33;    divisions    of,    35; 

linking  of,  36;  prevised,  35: 
Parkman,    Francis,    historian.    202, 

261. 
Parliamentary     Style,     in     oration, 

289. 

Parthenon,  299. 
Particles,  14. 
Pascal,  letters  of,  143. 
Passion,  treatment  of,  331. 
passions,    appeal    to,    268;    exciting 

of,  269. 

Pasteur's   Monograph,  156. 
Pastor,  historian,  238. 
Pater,   describes  humor,  75;   essays 

on  style,  104;  on  biography.  195; 

on  individuality,   103;  on  method 

of  study.  39. 
Pattison.    Mark,   criticism    on    Ma- 

caulay.   187;  criticism  on   Milton. 

506;  criticism  on  Renan.  251. 
Pauses,  in  drama.  410. 
"  Payn  Peverel,"  romance,  333. 
Penry,  tracts,  170. 
Percentages   at   present   of    foreign 

words,  22. 


574 


INDEX 


Pericles,  108;  orator,  299. 

Period   of   Criticism,    154. 

Perry,  Thomas,  criticism  by,  359; 
criticism  on  Aristophanes,  446; 
criticism  on  Sophocles,  443. 

Personality  in  Literary  Art,  84, 
103. 

Petrarch,  73;  an  author,  531;  lyric 
poet,  537- 

Phzedo,   158. 

Pharisees,  45. 

Philippic,  204. 

Phillips,  Wendell,  orations,  266; 
sublime  passages,  60. 

Philosophic   Style,  243. 

Pickwick,  comic  character,  79. 

Pindar,  lyric  poet,  534. 

Pioneer  Press,  The,  editorials  in, 
176. 

Plaintive  Lyric,   526. 

Plan,  evolution  of,  40 ;  for  composi- 
tion, 40. 

Plato,  .dialogues  of,  158;  says,  3; 
symposium,  160;  words  described 
by,  7- 

Platonic  love,  70. 

Plautus,  446. 

Pliny,  142;  author,  125. 

Plot,  idealization  of,  352 ;  in  ro- 
mance, 329. 

Plowden,  James  A.,  criticism  on 
Sappho,  535. 

Plutarch,  essayist,  178;  historian, 
126. 

Poe's  "  The  Bells,"  example  of  sub- 
limity in  sound,  57. 

Poet,  390;  qualities  of,  401. 

Poetic  Faculty,  functions  of,  398. 

Poetry,  399 ;  in  pictorial  work, 
272 ;  materials  of,  396 ;  origin  of, 

395- 

Poetry  and  Logic,  402. 

Poets  and  Prose  Writers,  397. 

Politeness,  quality  of  orator,  267. 

Pompous   Style,  97. 

Pope,  Alexander,  344;  errors  in  wit, 
76;  letters  of,  146. 

Popes,  Lives  of  the,  211. 

Popular  Style,  102. 

Power,  as  source  of  the  sublime, 
55;  maleficent  source  of  sublime, 
58;  national  and  religious,  236. 

Prejudice,  of  historian,  235;  re- 
moval of  party,  237. 

Preliminary  Study,  a. 


Prescott,    William,    historian,    241, 

258. 
Principle,  A  Second,  in  drama,  413; 

of  selection,  389. 
Principles    Applied,    in    paragraph, 

34;   underlying  of  drama,  419. 
Private   Journal,   207. 
Private   Papers,  206. 
Prometheus,  429. 
Propertius,  theme,  love,  73. 
Proportion,  68;  law  of  art,  241. 
Prose-forms,  a. 
Protestant  Historians,  236. 
Providence,  422. 
Publication  of  love  letters,  120. 
Publicity  of  open  letters,   118. 
Punic   Faith,   illustrated  by,   10. 
Purcell,  207. 
Puritanism,  history,  261. 
Purpose,  of  ballad,  528. 
Pusey,  tracts  of,  168,  174. 

Quackenbos,  on  loose  sentence,  27 ; 
on  sublimity,  53. 

Qualities  of  Style,  85. 

Quintilian,  eulogy,  162 ;  history. 
239 ;  on  conclusion  of  sentence, 
31 ;  on  history,  245 ;  on  oration, 
266,  269,  273;  studies  of,  301. 

Rabelais,  errors   in  wit,  76. 

Radot,  Rene  Vallery,  224. 

Raleigh,  253. 

Rank  of  letters  among  prose  forms, 
109. 

Reade,  Charles,  386. 

Realism,   revolt  against,  346. 

Recitations,  425. 

Record  of  the  Best  Minds,  400. 

Redeemer,  example  of  moral  sub- 
lime, 58. 

Relation     of     Lyric     to     Epic     and    . 
Drama,  517. 

Religious  Feeling,  71. 

Renan,  Ernest,  197;  description  of 
language,  9 ;  historian,  250. 

Republic  of  Letters,  The,  108. 

"  Resurrection,  The,"  by  Tolstoi, 
43.8. 

Review,  North  American,  sympo- 
sium, 162. 

Revolution,  French,   172. 

Richelieu,  406. 

"  Robin   Hood,"  romance,  333. 

"  Robinson  Crusoe,"  romance,  369, 
341- 


Roman,   oration,  300. 

Roman  Catholic  Church,  precepts 
conveyed  by  native  language,  15. 

Roman   Missals,  519. 

Roman  Republic,  The,  oratory  dur- 
ing, 300. 

Romance,  characters  of,  330; 
growth  of,  339;  historical,  342;  of 
travel,  341:  origin  of  name,  328; 
relation  to  drama,  342;  structure 
of,  329. 

Romantic  Movement,  343 ;  growth 
of  the,  345. 

Romantic  Novel,  349. 

Rome,  history,  237. 

Roosevelt,  President,  biography, 
224. 

"  Root  and  Branch  Pamphlets," 
169. 

Rosse,tti,  sonnets  of,  533. 

Round  Table,  Knights  of,  334. 

Rule,  general,  for  choosing  sen- 
tence, 29. 

Ruskin,  John,  32;  life  of,  224: 
model  on  paragraph,  39;  outlines 
work,  41;  sublimity,  60;  use  of 
cumulative  conjunction,  38. 

Russell,   news-letters  of,   114. 

Russians,    not    remarkable    for    wit, 

77- 
Ruth,  story  of,  73. 

Saint  Paul,  letters  of,  124,  130;  rep- 
resentative Hebrew  author  of  let- 
ters, 122. 

Saint  Peter,  epistle  of,  122. 

Sacred  Lyric,  518. 

Saintsbury,  George,  criticism  on 
Montaigne,  181 ;  criticism  on 
Michelet,  250;  criticism  on  Pas- 
cal, 143- 

Sappho,  lyric  poetess,  535. 

Satanic  School,  172. 

Savonarola,  352. 

Saxon-English,  lack  of  expressive 
words  in,  22. 

Saxon  Words,  brevity  of,  16:  con- 
creteness  of,  17;  sound  and  sense. 
17;  special  value  to  literary  artist. 
16;  syntactic  structure,  18;  tend- 
ency to  compound,  18 :  the  sig- 
nificance of,  17:  their  appeal  17. 

Scene,  dialogue  in,  408:  episode  in. 
411;  groups  in,  411;  requirements 
for,  408. 


575 

Scenery,  412. 

Schaefer,  Prof.  F.  J.,  b. 

Schiller,  lyric  poet,  539;  platonic 
love,  70. 

Schlegel,  Frederick,  criticism  on 
Homer,  494;  criticism  on  Pe- 
trarch, 537;  criticism  on  Schiller, 
539;  on  dialogue,  412;  on  drama, 
404;  words  likened  by,  7. 

Schoolmen,  169. 

Schwabe,   180. 

Science,  226;  influence  of,  353;  re- 
lationship to  literary  art,  2,  3. 

Scientific    Method,    modern   history, 

245- 

Scientist,  390. 
Scope,  in  oration,  270;  of  romance. 

328. 
Scott,  Walter,  242;  environment  of. 

344;      "Heart     of      Midlothian." 
'    101  ;  novelist.  370:   romance.  343: 

treatment    of    mediaeval    history, 

116. 

Scribes,  45. 
Scripture,    Holy,   figures   of  speech, 

45- 

Seeley,  History  of  Earth,  225. 

Sellar,  Professor  W.,  criticism  on 
Virgil,  496- 

Sentence,  balanced,  28;  coherence 
of,  29;  harmony  of,  30;  linking, 
in  paragraph,  37;  use  of  long, 
25 ;  loose,  27 ;  use  of  short.  24. 

Sentences  in  connection  with  mel- 
ody, 81 ;  number  of,  in  para- 
graph, 35;  periodic,  26. 

Seriousness,  quality  of  orator,  267. 

Shakespeare,  William.  420.  458: 
dramas  of,  5 ;  epochs  of,  551 : 
model  in  wit  and  humor,  76;  no 
letters  of,  112;  preference  of 
Saxon,  17;  sonnets,  120;  wit  of, 

Shaw,  Thomas  B..  criticism  of  let- 
ters, 148;  criticism  on  Bacon.  183: 
criticism  on  Gibbon.  255;  criti- 
cism on  Shakespeare.  461:  criti- 
cism on  Thackeray,  381. 

Shelley,  criticism  on  poetry,  394 : 
lament  over  Keats,  527;  lyric 
poet,  542. 

Sheran,  William  Henry,  criticism 
on  Arnold,  191 ;  criticism  on  Car- 
lyle,  189:  criticism  on  Ibsen,  452: 
criticism  on  Scott,  370;  criticism 


576 


INDEX 


on    Stevenson,   384;    criticism   on 

Tennyson,   543. 

Siegfried,  Teutonic  romance,  337. 
Sievers,      Professor,      criticism     on 

Schiller,  539. 
"  Sigurd,    the    Volsung,"    romance. 

346. 
Silence,    as    source   of  the   sublime, 

55- 

Smith,  Professor  Alexander,  criti- 
cism on  Horace,  536;  criticism 
on  Terentius,  447. 

Smith,     Captain    John,     travels     of, 

341- 

Smith,  Professor,  criticism  on  Te- 
rentius, 447. 

Smith,  Sydney,  on  humor,  77. 

Smyth,  Albert,  criticism  on  Burke, 
3i8. 

Solitude,  as  source  of  the  sublime, 

55- 

Solon,  59,  297. 

Some  features  of  style,  TOO. 

Sonnet,  The,  530;  classic  writers  of 
the,  532;  origin  of  the,  531. 

Sophocles,  158,  297,  425,  442;  char- 
acters, 428;  dramas  of.  5. 

Sound,    as    source    of   the    sublime, 

Source,  subjective  of  force,  45. 

Sources  of  principles,  I. 

Southey,  Robert,  translations  by, 
33.2. 

Spain,  435 ;   morality  plays,  436. 

Spaniard,  ballads  of  the,  529. 

Spanish  Cycle,  romance,  332. 

Spalding,  Bishop  John  Lancaster, 
criticism  on  Goethe,  450;  on  ora- 
to<r,  325, 

Special  literary  merit,  of  letters, 
123. 

Spectator,  171. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  describes  perfect 
artist,  29 ;  model  on  paragraph, 
39;  on  brevity  of  words,  16 ;  on 
oration,  284 ;  on  the  perfect  artist, 
105;  philosophy  of  style,  20,  90; 
translation  of  his  definition  of 
evolution,  19 ;  use  of  cumulative 
conjunction,  38. 

Spenser,  Edmund,  epithalamium,  120. 

Stanley,    Dean,   biographer,   214. 

Stedman,  elements  of  poetry,  83; 
on  the  ballad,  527. 

Sieele,   155. 


Stevenson,    Robert   Louis,   novelist, 

346,  384- 

Stewart,  Dugald,  criticism  on  Ba- 
con, 183.  , 

Story  of  Ruth,  Hebrew  literature, 
356. 

Story  of  Tobias,  Hebrew  litera- 
ture, 356,  358. 

Style,  deliberate,  287 ;  demonstra-  » 
tive,  285 ;  in  literature,  84 ;  in  his- 
tory, kinds  of,  239;  is  made  vivid, 
286;  of  love-letters,  120;  of  news- 
letters, 113,  117;  of  open  letter, 
119;  variations  of,  284. 

Stylists  in  History,  243. 

Subject-matter  of  letters  of  friend- 
ship, in;  of  news-letter,  114;  of 
romance,  328. 

Subjectivity,  of  lyric,  515. 

Sublimity,  depends  upon,  56;  mean- 
ing of,  52;  sources  of,  53. 

Sudermann,   Hermann,   454,   455. 

*'  Suicide   Club,   The,"   385. 

Swift,  Dean,  108,  170,  172;  errors 
in  wit,  76;  letters  of,  146;  pam- 
phlet, 171;  satires  of,  205;  tale  of 
the  tub,  340;  wit  of,  76. 

Swinburne,  prose  and  verse,  82. 

Switzerland,  history,  233. 

Syle,  in  oration,  282. 

Syllogism,   in   argument,  276. 

Symonds,  J.  A.,  criticism  on 
Petrarch,  538;  on  history,  227. 

Symposium,  155;  Greek,  161 ;  mod- 
ern, 161. 


Tallyrand,  117;  correspondence  of, 
116. 

Tartars,  invasion  of,  58. 

Tasso,  401. 

Tennyson,  525 ;  lyric  poet,  542 ; 
platonic  love,  70;  preference  of 
Saxon,  17;  sonnets  of,  533;  use 
of  foreign  words,  23. 

Terence,  language  employed  by  lit- 
erary art,  3. 

Terentius,   Publius,  447. 

Teutonic  Language,  an  element 
in  construction,  15. 

Thackeray,  381  ;  author,  376. 

"  The  Ancient  Mariner,"  rorm"c^. 
342- 

The  Essay,  108;  a  standard  prose 
form,  150;  a.  work  of  art,  152. 


INDEX 


577 


The  Holy  City,  example  of  feeling, 

74- 

"  The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables," 
382. 

The  Letter,  108;  among  the  Greeks 
and  Latins,  125 ;  in  relation  to 
other  literary  forms,  no. 

"The  Mill  on  the  Floss,"  351. 

The  News-Letter,  definition  of, 
113;  in  relation  to  literary  criti- 
cism, 115. 

The  Official  Letter,  115. 

The  Oration,  108. 

"  The  Scarlet  Letter,"  382. 

The   Sermon,   108. 

"The  Shipwreck  of  John  Daniel,' 
romance,  342. 

"  The  Tales  of  a  Wayside  Inn,"  339. 

"The  Travels  of  Gulliver,"  ro- 
mance, 342. 

"The  Voyage  of  Wilkins,"  ro- 
mance, 342. 

Theories  regarding  words,  9. 

Thespis,  426. 

Thompson's,  Denman,  "  Old  Home- 
stead," 411. 

Thucydides,  oration,  295;  style,  244. 

Throgmartin,  tracts,   170. 

Tasso,  73. 

Tolstoi,   387,   438;    realistic    writer, 

Tracts,  167;  history  of,  168;  of  I9th 
century,  173;  Puritan,  169. 

Tragedy,  aim  of,  424. 

Trajan,  Emperor,  letters  to,  142. 

Travel,  Fictitious,  in  romance,  342. 

"Treasure   Island,"  385. 

Treatment  of  Love,  ancient  and 
modern,  73. 

Treatment  of  Romance,  328. 

Trelingham  Court,  in  "  New  An- 
tigone," 351. 

Trench,  observation  on  words,  10; 
theories  on  the  origin  of  words 
(two),  8;  words  described  by,  8. 

Trollope,  Mr.,  378. 

Troubadours,  in  France,  73. 

Trial  by  Jury,  oration,  291. 

Tuckerman,  Henry,  criticism  on 
Bancroft,  259;  criticism  on  Haw- 
thorne, 382;  criticism  on  Park- 
man,  261. 

Thucydides,  historian,  126. 

Turks,  invasion  of,  58. 

Twain,  Mark,  wit  and  humor,  79. 


Tyndall's  monograph,   156. 

Udal,  tracts,  170. 

United  States,  colonial  history,  231. 
Unity,  68;   basis  of,  230;   in  para- 
graph, 34;  of  principles,  i. 
Universal  Toleration,  history,  238. 
Universality  of  Appeal,  119. 
University  of  Chicago,  history,  237. 
Utility  of  letters,  112. 

Value  of  humor,  78;  of  Junius  let- 
ters, 144;  of  pictorial  work,  271; 
of  wit,  77. 

Variation,  how  secured,  24. 

Vatican  Library,  196. 

Verbs,  12. 

Verse- forms,  a. 

Vesuvius,  eruption  of,  350. 

Virgil,  496;  epics  of,  5;  poetry  of, 
66;  platonic  love,  70. 

Virchow's  monograph,  156. 

"  Vision  of  Piers  Plowman,"  ro- 
mance, 340. 

Vividness,  of  style,  86. 

Vocabulary  of  Sublime,  59. 

Voorhees,  Senator,  oration,  291. 

Wace,  Robert,  criticism  on  Pres- 
cott.  258. 

Wagner,  music  of,  5. 

Waller,  biography,  224. 

Walpole,  letters  of,  112;  memoirs 
of,  147. 

Walton,  Isaac,  imitator,  210. 

Ward,  dialogue-essay,  158. 

Ward,  Adolphus,  criticism  on  Dick- 
ens, 374. 

Ward.   Mrs.  Humphrey.  208. 

Ward's   "  Marcella,"    romance,   347. 

Ward,  Wilfred,  dialogue-essay,  158. 

Ward,  William,  criticism  on 
^schylus,  441. 

Warner,  Charles  Dudley,  211. 

Washington,  George,  203. 

Watts,  Henry,  criticism  on  Cervan- 
tes, 365. 

Webster,  Daniel,  melody,  83 ;  model 
of  argument,  51 ;  oration  by,  271 ; 
orator,  319;  result  of  theory,  8; 
sincerity  of,  46. 

Welsh,  Alfred,  criticism  on  Macau- 
lay.  187;  criticism  on  Scott,  371. 

Wendel,  Barrett,  says  of  para- 
graphs, 35. 


578 

Wesley,  John,  525. 

Whately,  on  force.  43. 

Whittier,  525. 

Williston,  Martin,  criticism  on 
Longfellow,  544. 

Wilson,  General  James  Grant,  212. 

Wit,  in  art-content,  75 ;  of  different 
peoples,  77. 

Wolfe,  history,  261. 

Word-painting,  242. 

Words,  combinations,  24 ;  in  rela- 
tion to  literary  art,  7 ;  law  of  se- 
lection, 23;  multiplied,  9;  new,  9; 
origin  of,  8;  partial  agreement  of 
theories,  9;  particles,  14;  selec- 
tion of  adjectives,  13;  selection 


INDEX 


of  nouns,  n;  selection  of  verbs, 
12;  two-fold  function,  n;  va- 
rious definitions  of,  7. 

Wordsworth,  William,  criticism  on 
poetry,  388. 

Work  of  Poets,  396. 

Works  on   letter  criticism,   149. 


Xavier,  Francis,  59,  208. 
Xenophon,    155;    essayist,    154,    1/9; 

eulogy,  162. 
Xenophon,    symposium,    160. 

Zola,  realistic  novelist,  354;  realistic 
writer,  355. 


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